Titus Lartius:
O noble fellow!... Who sensibly outdares his senseless sword, and when it bows, stands up? Thou art left, Martius: a carbuncle entire, as big as thou art, were not so rich a jewel. Thou wast a soldier even to Cato's wish. Not fierce and terrible only in strokes; but with thy grim looks and the thunder-like percussion of thy sounds, thou madst thine enemies shake, as if the world were feverous and did tremble.
Cominius:
Where's Martius?
Titus Lartius:
Lost. Alone he fights within Corioles.
Cominius:
O Martius, such a manhood is called foolery, when it stands against a falling fabric. Hadst thou but breathed, we should have come off like Romans: neither foolish in our stands, nor cowardly in retire. Believe me, sirs, we shall be charged again.
[Coriolanus enters, bloody from battle]
Riportata da il 05/03/2025 alle ore 12:01

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