Original
Modern English
I’ll fight with none but thee; for I do hate thee Worse than a promise-breaker.
I’ll fight with no one except you; because I hate you More than a liar.
We hate alike: Not Afric owns a serpent I abhor More than thy fame and envy. Fix thy foot.
We both hate each other: No snake in Africa disgusts me More than your reputation and jealousy. Stand your ground.
Let the first budger die the other’s slave, And the gods doom him after!
Let the first fighter fall, and let the other become his servant, And let the gods punish him afterwards!
If I fly, Marcius, Holloa me like a hare.
If I run, Marcius, Call me like you would call a rabbit.
Within these three hours, Tullus, Alone I fought in your Corioli walls, And made what work I pleased: ’tis not my blood Wherein thou seest me mask’d; for thy revenge Wrench up thy power to the highest.
In the last three hours, Tullus, I fought alone inside your Corioli walls, And I did whatever I wanted: it’s not my blood That you see on me; for your revenge Unleash your full power.
Wert thou the Hector That was the whip of your bragg’d progeny, Thou shouldst not scape me here.
If you were Hector The great hero who punished your proud ancestors, You still wouldn’t escape me here.
Officious, and not valiant, you have shamed me In your condemned seconds.
Officious, and not brave, you have embarrassed me With your useless backup.