Document:  All > Shakespeare > Tragedies > Coriolanus > Act I, scene V

	[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.

	[Alarum continues still afar off]

	[Enter MARCIUS and TITUS LARTIUS with a trumpet]

MARCIUS: 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.

LARTIUS:                   Worthy sir, thou bleed'st;
	Thy exercise hath been too violent for
	A second course of fight.

MARCIUS: 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.

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!

MARCIUS: Thy friend no less
	Than those she placeth highest! So, farewell.

LARTIUS: 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!



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