Page:Coriolanus (1924) Yale.djvu/34

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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.

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, Fortune,

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 places highest! So, farewell.

Lart. Thou worthiest Martius!—

Go, sound thy trumpet in the market-place;

Call thither all the officers o' the town,

Where they shall know our mind. Away!

Exeunt.

 6 doit: Dutch copper coin

6, 7 doublets wore them; cf. n.

18 physical: beneficial to health

23 Thy friend: may prosperity befriend thee 