The Volscians tormented the Romans by continual attacks. In order to punish them, the siege of Corioli was resolved upon. It was one of their strongest places. In a sortie, the besiegers repulsed the Romans, and drove them back to their own camp. Furious at such a defeat, Marcius, a young patrician, with a handful of brave companions, returned to the charge, made the Volscians give way in their turn, penetrated with them into the city, and gave it up to pillage. That was the age when military talents were sure of their reward. After the taking of the city, the consul Cominius, before the whole army, ordered Caius Marcius to take a tenth of the booty, before any division was made of the rest, besides presenting him with a fine horse and noble trappings as a reward for his valour. The army expressed their approval of this by their acclamations; but Marcius, stepping forward, said, “That he accepted of the horse, and was happy in the consul’s approbation; but as for the rest, he considered it rather as a pecuniary reward than as a mark of honour, and therefore desired to be excused receiving it, as he was quite satisfied with his proper share of the booty. One favour only in particular I desire,” continued he, “and I beg I may be indulged in it. I have a friend among the Volscians, bound with me in the sacred rites of hospitality, who is a man of virtue and honour. He is now among the prisoners, and from easy and opulent circumstances is reduced to servitude. Of the many misfortunes under which he labours, I should be glad to rescue him from one, which is that of being sold for a slave.” His request, of course, was granted, and his friend was liberated. Here we cannot refrain from noting an error in one whom it is our pride to think almost faultless. Whilst giving one of the most faithful delineations of an historical character in Coriolanus that ever was exhibited on a stage, Shakespeare makes him say, when asked for the name of the friend he wished to serve,-- “By Jupiter, forgot.-- I am weary; yea, my memory is tired.-- Have we no wine here?” Now, this is not Coriolanus, nor consistent with the hero, who did not forget gratitude in the hour of triumph: he who remembered the friend would not have forgotten his name so lightly. We have seen John Kemble, as he pitched his shield to his armourer, produce great effect by this little speech; but stage effect is a poor compensation for the violation of truth of character. VEII. A.C. 371. The Veientes were the most powerful of the twelve peoples who inhabited Etruria. Their capital, Veii, situated on a steep rock, was only twelve miles from Rome; and the inhabitants were, for more than three hundred and fifty years, the most persevering enemies of the growing republic.