The Tragedy of Coriolanus — Act 1, Scene 2: Corioli. The Senate-house.

In Corioli, Tullus Aufidius meets with Volscian senators and discusses reports from Rome. A letter says the Romans have raised troops, but no one knows their exact target, though it is believed that Cominius, Marcius, and Titus Lartius are leading the force, likely against the Volsces. Aufidius says Rome has learned too much too soon and that this weakens the Volscian plan to move quietly through multiple towns before Rome notices. The senators tell him to take command and join his troops, while they stay to defend Corioli. Aufidius leaves confidently, declaring that if he meets Caius Marcius, their fight will continue until one of them is done.

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So, your opinion is, Aufidius,

That they of Rome are entered in our counsels

And know how we proceed.

Is it not yours?

What ever have been thought on in this state,

That could be brought to bodily act ere Rome

Had circumvention? 'Tis not four days gone

Since I heard thence; these are the words: I think

I have the letter here; yes, here it is.

'They have press'd a power, but it is not known

Whether for east or west: the dearth is great;

The people mutinous; and it is rumour'd,

Cominius, Marcius your old enemy,

Who is of Rome worse hated than of you,

And Titus Lartius, a most valiant Roman,

These three lead on this preparation

Whither 'tis bent: most likely 'tis for you:

Consider of it.'

Our army's in the field

We never yet made doubt but Rome was ready

To answer us.

Nor did you think it folly

To keep your great pretences veil'd till when

They needs must show themselves; which

in the hatching,

It seem'd, appear'd to Rome. By the discovery.

We shall be shorten'd in our aim, which was

To take in many towns ere almost Rome

Should know we were afoot.

Noble Aufidius,

Take your commission; hie you to your bands:

Let us alone to guard Corioli:

If they set down before 's, for the remove

Bring your army; but, I think, you'll find

They've not prepared for us.

O, doubt not that;

I speak from certainties. Nay, more,

Some parcels of their power are forth already,

And only hitherward. I leave your honours.

If we and Caius Marcius chance to meet,

'Tis sworn between us we shall ever strike

Till one can do no more.

The gods assist you!

And keep your honours safe!

Farewell.

Farewell.

Farewell.