MESSENGER.
Above an hour, my lord.
COMINIUS.
’Tis not a mile; briefly we heard their drums.
How couldst thou in a mile confound an hour
And bring thy news so late?
MESSENGER.
Spies of the Volsces
Held me in chase, that I was forced to wheel
Three or four miles about; else had I, sir,
Half an hour since brought my report.
[Exit Messenger.]
Enter Martius, bloody.
COMINIUS.
Who’s yonder,
That does appear as he were flayed? O gods,
He has the stamp of Martius, and I have
Before-time seen him thus.
MARTIUS.
Come I too late?
COMINIUS.
The shepherd knows not thunder from a tabor
More than I know the sound of Martius’ tongue
From every meaner man.
MARTIUS.
Come I too late?
COMINIUS.
Ay, if you come not in the blood of others,
But mantled in your own.