Act IScene V
Within Corioles. A street
Enter certain Romans, with spoils.
First Roman
This will I carry to Rome.
Second Roman
And I this.
Third Roman
A murrain on’t! I took this for silver.
Enter Martius and Titus Lartius with a Trumpet.
Martius
See here these movers that do prize their hoursAt a cracked drachma. Cushions, leaden spoons,Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen wouldBury with those that wore them, these base slaves,Ere yet the fight be done, pack up. Down with them!
Exit the Romans with spoils.
Alarum continues still afar off.
And hark, what noise the General makes! To him!There is the man of my soul’s hate, Aufidius,Piercing our Romans. Then, valiant Titus, takeConvenient numbers to make good the city,Whilst I, with those that have the spirit, will hasteTo help Cominius.
Lartius
Worthy sir, thou bleed’st.Thy exercise hath been too violentFor a second course of fight.
Martius
Sir, praise me not.My work hath yet not warmed me. Fare you well.The blood I drop is rather physicalThan dangerous to me. To Aufidius thusI will appear and fight.
Lartius
Now the fair goddess FortuneFall deep in love with thee, and her great charmsMisguide thy opposers’ swords! Bold gentleman,Prosperity be thy page!
Martius
Thy friend no lessThan those she placeth highest! So farewell.
Lartius
Thou worthiest Martius!
Exit Martius.
Go sound thy trumpet in the marketplace.Call thither all the officers o’ th’ town,Where they shall know our mind. Away!
Exeunt.