1.Sol. Foole-hardinesse, not I
2.Sol. Nor I
1.Sol. See they haue shut him in.
Alarum continues
All. To th' pot I warrant him.
Enter Titus Lartius
Tit. What is become of Martius?
All. Slaine (Sir) doubtlesse
1.Sol. Following the Flyers at the very heeles,
With them he enters: who vpon the sodaine
Clapt to their Gates, he is himselfe alone,
To answer all the City
Lar. Oh Noble Fellow!
Who sensibly out-dares his sencelesse Sword,
And when it bowes, stand'st vp: Thou art left Martius,
A Carbuncle intire: as big as thou art
Weare not so rich a Iewell. Thou was't a Souldier
Euen to Calues wish, not fierce and terrible
Onely in strokes, but with thy grim lookes, and
The Thunder-like percussion of thy sounds
Thou mad'st thine enemies shake, as if the World
Were Feauorous, and did tremble.
Enter Martius bleeding, assaulted by the Enemy.
1.Sol. Looke Sir