All. To the pot, I warrant him.
[Alarum continues.
Re-enter Titus Lartius.[2652]
Lart. What is become of Marcius?
All. Slain, sir, doubtless.
First Sol. Following the fliers at the very heels, 50
With them he enters; who, upon the sudden,
Clapp'd to their gates: he is himself alone,[2653]
To answer all the city.
Lart. O noble fellow!
Who sensibly outdares his senseless sword,[2654]
And, when it bows, stands up! Thou art left, Marcius:[2655] 55
A carbuncle entire, as big as thou art,
Were not so rich a jewel. Thou wast a soldier[2656]
Even to Cato's wish, not fierce and terrible[2657]
Only in strokes; but, with thy grim looks and
The thunder-like percussion of thy sounds,[2658] 60
Thou madest thine enemies shake, as if the world
Were feverous and did tremble.
Re-enter Marcius, bleeding, assaulted by the enemy.[2659]
First Sol. Look, sir.
Lart. O, 'tis Marcius!
Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike.