| [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. |
| [Alarum continues still afar off] | |
| [Enter MARCIUS and TITUS LARTIUS with a trumpet] | |
| MARCIUS | 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! 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, thou bleed'st; Thy exercise hath been too violent for A second course of fight. |
| MARCIUS | 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. |
| LARTIUS | 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! |
| MARCIUS | Thy friend no less Than those she placeth highest! So, farewell. |
| LARTIUS | Thou worthiest Marcius! |
| [Exit MARCIUS] | |
| Go, sound thy trumpet in the market-place; Call thither all the officers o' the town, Where they shall know our mind: away! |
|
| [Exeunt] |