_Com._ If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work, Thou'ldst not believe thy deeds: but I'll report it,[2729] Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles; Where great patricians shall attend, and shrug,[2730] I' the end admire; where ladies shall be frighted, 5 And, gladly quaked, hear more; where the dull tribunes, That, with the fusty plebeians, hate thine honours,[2731] Shall say against their hearts 'We thank the gods Our Rome hath such a soldier.' Yet camest thou to a morsel of this feast, 10 Having fully dined before. _Enter_ TITUS LARTIUS, _with his power, from the pursuit_.[2732] _Lart._ O general, Here is the steed, we the caparison:[2733] Hadst thou beheld--[2734] _Mar._ Pray now, no more: my mother,[2735] Who has a charter to extol her blood,[2735] When she does praise me grieves me. I have done[2736] 15 As you have done; that's what I can: induced[2736] As you have been; that's for my country:[2736] He that has but effected his good will Hath overta'en mine act. _Com._ You shall not be[2737] The grave of your deserving; Rome must know[2737] 20 The value of her own: 'twere a concealment[2737] Worse than a theft, no less than a traducement,[2737] To hide your doings; and to silence that, Which, to the spire and top of praises vouch'd, Would seem but modest: therefore, I beseech you-- 25 In sign of what you are, not to reward What you have done--before our army hear me. _Mar._ I have some wounds upon me, and they smart To hear themselves remember'd. _Com._ Should they not, Well might they fester 'gainst ingratitude, 30 And tent themselves with death. Of all the horses, Whereof we have ta'en good, and good store, of all[2738] The treasure in this field achieved and city,[2739] We render you the tenth; to be ta'en forth, Before the common distribution, at[2740][2741] 35 Your only choice.[2741] _Mar._ I thank you, general; But cannot make my heart consent to take A bribe to pay my sword: I do refuse it, And stand upon my common part with those That have beheld the doing.[2742] 40 [_A long flourish. They all cry_ 'Marcius! Marcius!' _cast up their caps and lances: Cominius and Lartius stand bare_.