he is himself alone, To answer all the city. O noble fellow! Who sensibly outdares his senseless sword, And, when it bows, stands up. Thou art left, Marcius: A carbuncle entire, as big as thou art, Were not so rich a jewel. Thou wast a soldier Even to Cato's wish, not fierce and terrible Only in strokes; but, with thy grim looks and The thunder-like percussion of thy sounds, Thou madst thine enemies shake, as if the world Were feverous and did tremble. Look, sir. O,'tis Marcius! Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike. This will I carry to Rome. And I this. A murrain on't! I took this for silver. 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. Worthy sir, thou bleed'st; Thy exercise hath been too violent for A second course of fight. 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. 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! Thy friend no less Than those she placeth highest! So, farewell. Thou worthiest Marcius! Go, sound thy trumpet in the market-place; Call thither all the officers o' the town, Where they shall know our mind: away! Breathe you, my friends: well fought; we are come off Like Romans, neither foolish in our stands, Nor cowardly in retire: believe me, sirs, We shall be charged again. Whiles we have struck, By interims and conveying gusts we have heard The charges of our friends. Ye Roman gods! Lead their successes as we wish our own, That both our powers, with smiling fronts encountering, May give you thankful sacrifice. Thy news? The citizens of Corioli have issued, And given to Lartius and to Marcius battle: I saw our party to their trenches driven, And then I came away. Though thou speak'st truth, Methinks thou speak'st