With flight and agued fear! Mend, and charge home, And make my wars on you: look to't: Come on; Another Alarum. The Volces and Romans re-enter, and the fight is renewed. So, now the gates are ope: - Now prove good seconds: "Tis for the followers fortune widens them, Not for the fliers: mark me, and do the like. [He enters the Gates, and is shut in. 1 Sol. Following the fliers at the very heels, Lart. O noble fellow ! Who, sensible, outdares his senseless sword, And, when it bows, stands up! - Thou art left, Mar cius: A carbuncle entire, as big as thou art, Were not so rich a jewel. Thou wast a soldier Only in strokes; but, with thy grim looks, and 6 Who, sensible,] Sensible is here, having sensation. The thunder-like percussion of thy sounds, Thou mad'st thine enemies shake, as if the world Re-enter MARCIUS, bleeding, assaulted by the Enemy. 1 Sol. Lart. Look, sir. 'Tis Marcius: t Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike. [They fight, and all enter the City. SCENE V. Within the Town. A Street. Enter certain Romans, with Spoils. 1 Rom. This will I carry to Rome. 2 Rom. And I this. 3 Rom. A murrain on't! I took this for silver. [Alarum continues still afar off. Enter MARCIUS, and TITUS LARTIUS, with a Trumpet. Mar. See here these movers, that do prize their hours At a crack'd drachm! Cushions, leaden spoons, Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen would Bury with those that wore them, these base slaves, Ere yet the fight be done, pack up: - Down with them. And hark, what noise the general makes! - To him:- +"O, 'tis Marcius:" MALONE. Lart. Worthy sir, thou bleed'st; Thy exercise hath been too violent for Mar. Sir, praise me not: My work hath yet not warm'd me: Fare you well. The blood I drop is rather physical Than dangerous to me: To Aufidius thus I will appear, and fight. Lart. Now the fair goddess, Fortune, Fall deep in love with thee; and her great charms Misguide thy opposers' swords! Bold gentleman, Prosperity be thy page! Mar. Thy friend no less Than those she placeth highest! So, farewell. Lart. Thou worthiest Marcius! [Exit MARCIUS. Go, sound thy trumpet in the market-place; Call thither all the officers of the town, Where they shall know our mind: Away. [Exeunt. SCENE VI. Near the Camp of Cominius. Enter COMINIUS and Forces, retreating. Com. Breathe you, my friends; well fought: we are come off Like Romans, neither foolish in our stands, Now cowardly in retire: believe me, sirs, We shall be charg'd again. Whiles we have struck, By interims, and conveying gusts, we have heard The charges of our friends: - The Roman gods, Lead their successes as we wish our own; That both our powers, with smiling fronts encountering, Enter a Messenger. May give you thankful sacrifice! - Thy news? Mess. The citizens of Corioli have issued, Com. Though thou speak'st truth, Methinks, thou speak'st not well. How long is't since? Mess. Above an hour, my lord. Com. 'Tis not a mile; briefly we heard their drums: How could'st thou in a mile confound an hour, 7 And bring thy news so late? Mess. Com. Enter MARCIUS. Who's yonder, That does appear as he were flay'd? O gods! Mar. Come I too late? Com. The shepherd knows not thunder from a tabor, More than I know the sound of Marcius' tongue From every meaner man's. † Mar. Come I too late? Com. Ay, if you come not in the blood of others, But mantled in your own. Mar. O! let me clip you In arms as sound, as when I woo'd; in heart Com. How is't with Titus Lartius? Flower of warriors, Mar. As with a man busied about decrees: 7 · confound an hour,] Confound is here used not in its common acceptation, but in the sense of―to expend. Conterere tempus. ↑ "every meaner man.- - MALONE. Condemning some to death, and some to exile; Ransoming him, or pitying, threat'ning the other; Even like a fawning greyhound in the leash, To let him slip at will. Com. Where is that slave, Which told me they had beat you to your trenches? Mar. Let him alone, He did inform the truth: But for our gentlemen, Com. But how prevail'd you? Mar. Will the time serve to tell? I do not think Where is the enemy? Are you lords o'the field? If not, why cease you till you are so? Com. Marcius, We have at disadvantage fought, and did Retire, to win our purpose. Mar. How lies their battle? Know you on which side They have plac'd their men of trust? Com. As I guess, Marcius, Their hands in the vaward are the Antiates, Of their best trust: o'er them Aufidius, Their very heart of hope. Mar. I do beseech you, By all the battles wherein we have fought, 8 Ransoming him, or pitying,] i. e. remitting his ransom. |