VIRGILIA.
Yes, certain, there’s a letter for you; I saw it.
MENENIUS.
A letter for me? It gives me an estate of seven years’ health, in which time I will make a lip at the physician. The most sovereign prescription in Galen is but empiricutic and, to this preservative, of no better report than a horse drench. Is he not wounded? He was wont to come home wounded.
VIRGILIA.
O, no, no, no!
VOLUMNIA.
O, he is wounded, I thank the gods for’t.
MENENIUS.
So do I too, if it be not too much. Brings he victory in his pocket, the wounds become him.
VOLUMNIA.
On’s brows, Menenius. He comes the third time home with the oaken garland.
MENENIUS.
Has he disciplined Aufidius soundly?
VOLUMNIA.
Titus Lartius writes they fought together, but Aufidius got off.
MENENIUS.
And ’twas time for him too, I’ll warrant him that. An he had stayed by him, I would not have been so ’fidiused for all the chests in Corioles and the gold that’s in them. Is the Senate possessed of this?
VOLUMNIA.
Good ladies, let’s go.—Yes, yes, yes. The Senate has letters from the General, wherein he gives my son the whole name of the war. He hath in this action outdone his former deeds doubly.