Yet, Martius, that was much, Your hand: most welcome! Exeunt.
Enter two of the Servingmen.
1. Serv. Here's a strange alteration!
2. Serv. By my hand, I had thought to 156
have strucken him with a cudgel; and yet my
mind gave me his clothes made a false report of
him.
1. Serv. What an arm he has! He turned me 160
about with his finger and his thumb, as one would
set up a top.
2. Serv. Nay, I knew by his face that there
was something in him: he had, sir, a kind of face, 164
methought,—I cannot tell how to term it.
1. Serv. He had so; looking as it were,—would
I were hanged but I thought there was more in
him than I could think. 168
2. Serv. So did I, I'll be sworn: he is simply
the rarest man i' the world.
1. Serv. I think he is; but a greater soldier
than he you wot on. 172
2. Serv. Who? my master?
1. Serv. Nay, it's no matter for that.
2. Serv. Worth six on him.
1. Serv. Nay, not so neither; but I take him 176
to be the greater soldier.
2. Serv. Faith, look you, one cannot tell how
to say that: for the defence of a town our general
is excellent. 180
1. Serv. Ay, and for an assault too.
153 S. d. Enter . . . Servingmen; cf. n.
158 gave me: misgave me, made me suspect
162 set up: start spinning
172 he . . . on: the man you know of, i.e. Aufidius; cf. n.
