“By the apostle Paul, shadows to-night
Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard,
Than could the substance of ten thousand soldiers.”
Aufidius thus recounts his slumbering memory of the prowess of Coriolanus:
“This happy Roman, this proud Marcius, haunts me.
Each troubled night, when slaves and captives sleep,
Forgetful of their chains, I in my dreams
Anew am vanquish’d; and beneath his sword
With horror sinking, feel a tenfold death —
The death of honour.”