The Tragedy of Coriolanus

SCENE V. Within Corioles. A street

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.

Enter Martius and Titus Lartius with a Trumpet.

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,
Ere yet the fight be done, pack up. Down with them!

[Exit the Romans with spoils.]

[Alarum continues still afar off.]

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.

MARTIUS.
Sir, praise me not.
My work hath 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 thee, and her great charms
Misguide thy opposers’ swords! Bold gentleman,
Prosperity be thy page!

MARTIUS.
Thy friend no less
Than those she placeth highest! So farewell.

LARTIUS.
Thou worthiest Martius!

[Exit Martius.]

Go sound thy trumpet in the marketplace.
Call thither all the officers o’ th’ town,
Where they shall know our mind. Away!

[Exeunt.]