FIRST ROMAN
This will I carry to Rome.
SECOND ROMAN
And I this.
THIRD ROMAN
A murrain on’t! I took this for silver.
MARTIUS
See here these movers that do prize their hours
At a cracked drachma. Cushions, leaden spoons,
Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen would
Bury with those that wore them, these base slaves,
yet the fight be done, pack up. Down with them!
MARTIUS
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, take
Convenient numbers to make good the city,
Whilst I, with those that have the spirit, will haste
To help Cominius.
LARTIUS
Worthy sir, bleed’st.
exercise been too violent
For a second course of fight.
MARTIUS
Sir, praise me not.
My work yet not warmed me. Fare you well.
The blood I drop is rather physical
Than dangerous to me. To Aufidius thus
I will appear and fight.
LARTIUS
Now the fair goddess Fortune
Fall deep in love with , and her great charms
Misguide opposers’ swords! Bold gentleman,
Prosperity be page!
MARTIUS
friend no less
Than those she placeth highest! So farewell.
LARTIUS
worthiest Martius!
LARTIUS
Go sound trumpet in the marketplace.
Call all the officers o’ th’ town,
Where they shall know our mind. Away!