Who, sensibly, outdares his senseless sword,
And, when it bows, stands up. Thou art left, Martius:
A carbuncle entire, as big as thou art,
Were not so rich a jewel. Thou wast a soldier 56
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 mad'st thine enemies shake, as if the world 60
Were feverous and did tremble.
Enter Martius, bleeding, assaulted by the Enemy.
1. Sol. Look, sir!
Lart. O! 'tis Martius!
Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike.
Scene Five
[Corioli. A Street]
Enter certain Romans, with spoils.
1. Rom. This will I carry to Rome.
2. Rom. And I this.
3. Rom. A murrain on 't! I took this for silver.
Enter Martius and Titus, with a Trumpet.
Mar. See here these movers that do prize their hours 4
At a crack'd drachme! Cushions, leaden spoons,
53 sensibly: though sensitive to pain
54 left: forsaken
57 Cato's wish; cf. n.
62 make . . . alike: remain to share his fate
4 movers: cowards
5 drachme: drachma, small Greek coin of silver
