Page 2794 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

ALL

To th’pot, I warrant him.

Alarum continues.
Enter Titus Lartius.

LARTIUS
What is become of Martius?

ALL
Slain, sir, doubtless. [50]

FIRST SOLDIER
Following the fliers at the very heels,

With them he enters, who upon the sudden
Clapped to their gates. He is himself alone,
To answer all the city.

LARTIUS
O noble fellow!

Who sensibly outdares his senseless sword, [55]
And when it bows stand’st up. Thou art lost, Martius.
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 [60]
The thunder-like percussion of thy sounds
Thou mad’st thine enemies shake, as if the world

Were feverous and did tremble.

Enter Martius, bleeding, assaulted by the enemy.

FIRST SOLDIER
Look, sir.

LARTIUS
O, ’tis Martius!
Let’s fetch him off, or make remain alike.