Titus Lartius, with a Trumpet.
Mar.
See here these movers, that do prize their hours4 note
At a crack'd drachm! Cushions, leaden spoons,
Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen would
Bury with those that wore them5 note
, these base slaves,
-- 38 --
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.
Lart.
Worthy sir, thou bleed'st;
Thy exercise hath been too violent for
A second course of fight.
Mar.
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.
Lart.
Now the fair goddess, Fortune6 note
,
Fall deep in love with thee; and her great charms
Misguide thy opposers' swords! Bold gentleman,
Prosperity be thy page!
Mar.
Thy friend no less
Than those she placeth highest! So, farewell.
Lart.
Thou worthiest Marcius!—
[Exit Marcius.
Go, sound thy trumpet in the market-place;
Call thither all the officers of the town,
Where they shall know our mind: Away.
[Exeunt.
-- 39 --
James Boswell [1821], The plays and poems of William Shakspeare, with the corrections and illustrations of various commentators: comprehending A Life of the Poet, and an enlarged history of the stage, by the late Edmond Malone. With a new glossarial index (J. Deighton and Sons, Cambridge) [word count] [S10201].
