482Martius. Yonder comes Newes:

483A Wager they haue met.

484Lar. My horse to yours, no.

485Mar. Tis done.

486Lart. Agreed.

487Mar. Say, ha's our Generall met the Enemy?

488Mess. They lye in view, but haue not spoke as yet.

489Lart. So, the good Horse is mine.

490Mart. Ile buy him of you.

491Lart. No, Ile nor sel, nor giue him: Lend you him I will

492For halfe a hundred yeares: Summon the Towne.

493Mar. How farre off lie these Armies?

494Mess. Within this mile and halfe.

495Mar. Then shall we heare their Larum, & they Ours.

496Now Mars, I prythee make vs quicke in worke,

497That we with smoaking swords may march from hence

498To helpe our fielded Friends. Come, blow thy blast.

501Tullus Auffidious, is he within your Walles?

5021. Senat. No, nor a man that feares you lesse then he,

503That's lesser then a little: Drum a farre off.

504Hearke, our Drummes

505Are bringing forth our youth: Wee'l breake our Walles

506Rather then they shall pound vs vp our Gates,

507Which yet seeme shut, we haue but pin'd with Rushes,

508They'le open of themselues. Harke you, farre off

510There is Auffidious. List what worke he makes

511Among'st your clouen Army.

512Mart. Oh they are at it.

513Lart. Their noise be our instruction. Ladders hoa.

515Mar. They feare vs not, but issue forth their Citie.

516Now put your Shields before your hearts, and fight

517With hearts more proofe then Shields.

518Aduance braue Titus,

519They do disdaine vs much beyond our Thoughts,

520which makes me sweat with wrath. Come on my fellows

521He that retires, Ile take him for a Volce,

522And he shall feele mine edge.

525Mar. All the contagion of the South, light on you,

526You Shames of Rome: you Heard of Byles and Plagues

527Plaister you o're, that you may be abhorr'd

528Farther then seene, and one infect another

529Against the Winde a mile: you soules of Geese,

530That beare the shapes of men, how haue you run

531From Slaues, that Apes would beate; Pluto and Hell,

532All hurt behinde, backes red, and faces pale

533With flight and agued feare, mend and charge home,

534Or by the fires of heauen, Ile leaue the Foe,

535And make my Warres on you: Looke too't: Come on,

536If you'l stand fast, wee'l beate them to their Wiues,

537As they vs to our Trenches followes.

540So, now the gates are ope: now proue good Seconds,

541'Tis for the followers Fortune, widens them,

542Not for the flyers: Marke me, and do the like.

5441. Sol. Foole-hardinesse, not I.

5452. Sol. Nor I.

5461. Sol. See they haue shut him in. Alarum continues

547All. To th' pot I warrant him. Enter Titus Lartius

548Tit. What is become of Martius?

549All. Slaine (Sir) doubtlesse.

5501. Sol. Following the Flyers at the very heeles,

551With them he enters: who vpon the sodaine

552Clapt to their Gates, he is himselfe alone,

553To answer all the City.

554Lar. Oh Noble Fellow!

555Who sensibly out-dares his sencelesse Sword,

556And when it bowes, stand'st vp: Thou art left Martius,

557A Carbuncle intire: as big as thou art

558Weare not so rich a Iewell. Thou was't a Souldier

559Euen to Calues wish, not fierce and terrible

560Onely in strokes, but with thy grim lookes, and

561The Thunder-like percussion of thy sounds

562Thou mad'st thine enemies shake, as if the World

563Were Feauorous, and did tremble.

5651. Sol. Looke Sir.

566Lar. O 'tis Martius.

567Let's fetch him off, or make remaine alike.