MARCIUS.
Thy friend no less
Than those she placeth highest!--So farewell.

LARTIUS.
Thou worthiest Marcius!--

[Exit MARCIUS.]

Go, sound thy trumpet in the market-place;
Call thither all the officers o' the town,
Where they shall know our mind: away!

[Exeunt.]



SCENE VI. Near the camp of COMINIUS.

[Enter COMINIUS and Foreces, retreating.]

COMINIUS.
Breathe you, my friends: well fought; we are come off
Like Romans, neither foolish in our stands
Nor cowardly in retire: believe me, sirs,
We shall be charg'd again. Whiles we have struck,
By interims and conveying gusts we have heard
The charges of our friends. The Roman gods,
Lead their successes as we wish our own,
That both our powers, with smiling fronts encountering,