I’ll fight with none but thee, for I do hate thee
Worse than a promise-breaker.
I'll fight no one but you, because I hate you more than I hate a man who breaks his word.
I'm only fighting you. I hate you worse than anyone I've ever met.
fight only you hate you most worse than oath-breaker
We hate alike.
Not Afric owns a serpent I abhor
More than thy fame and envy. Fix thy foot.
We hate each other equally. Africa doesn't contain a serpent I despise more than I despise your reputation and your success. Plant your feet — we fight now.
The feeling's mutual. There's no snake in Africa I hate more than I hate you and your fame. Stand firm. Let's do this.
hate alike serpent worse your fame envy fix foot fight now
Let the first budger die the other’s slave,
And the gods doom him after!
Whoever moves first and shows cowardice dies a slave to the other, and may the gods curse him forever after.
Whoever retreats first becomes the other's slave, and the gods can curse you forever.
first to run become slave gods doom him
If I fly, Martius,
Hollo me like a hare.
If I run, Martius, hunt me down like you'd hunt a hare.
If I back off, chase me like I'm a rabbit.
if i fly hollo like hare chase me
Within these three hours, Tullus,
Alone I fought in your Corioles’ walls,
And made what work I pleased. ’Tis not my blood
Wherein thou seest me masked. For thy revenge
Wrench up thy power to th’ highest.
Three hours ago, Aufidius, I was alone inside your Corioles' walls and did whatever I pleased in there. This blood isn't mine — it's yours and theirs. For your revenge, muster all your strength and throw it at me.
Just three hours ago I was alone in your city, tearing it apart. This blood is yours, not mine. Give me everything you've got.
three hours alone in corioles made what work blood yours this is revenge max strength
Wert thou the Hector
That was the whip of your bragged progeny,
Thou shouldst not scape me here.
Even if you were Hector — the warrior who dominated your ancestors — you wouldn't escape me here.
Even if you were Hector himself — the best there ever was — you'd still go down to me.
even if hector whip of your ancestors you wouldnt escape
The Reckoning
This is the play's central duel — the moment Martius and Aufidius finally face each other. Aufidius fights well but calls for support when Martius presses him; Martius then curses Aufidius for needing help, declaring his victory in Corioles was won alone. The scene is pure spectacle: two warriors of nearly equal skill, but one clearly superior in will. When Aufidius needs reinforcements and still loses ground, it confirms what the play keeps saying: Martius is not just a great soldier, he's in a different category.
If this happened today…
Two chess grandmasters, but one is in the zone. The other is objectively brilliant, but they're playing a different match.