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Under the Walls of Alexandria. | |
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Alarum. Enter ANTONY, marching; SCARUS, and Forces. | |
| Ant. We have beat him to his camp; run one before | |
| And let the queen know of our gests. To-morrow, | |
| Before the sun shall see ’s, we’ll spill the blood | 5 |
| That has to-day escap’d. I thank you all; | |
| For doughty-handed are you, and have fought | |
| Not as you serv’d the cause, but as ’t had been | |
| Each man’s like mine; you have shown all Hectors. | |
| Enter the city, clip your wives, your friends, | 10 |
| Tell them your feats; whilst they with joyful tears | |
| Wash the congealment from your wounds, and kiss | |
| The honour’d gashes whole. [To SCARUS.] Give me thy hand: | |
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Enter CLEOPATRA, attended. | |
| To this great fairy I’ll commend thy acts, | 15 |
| Make her thanks bless thee. O thou day o’ the world! | |
| Chain mine arm’d neck; leap thou, attire and all, | |
| Through proof of harness to my heart, and there | |
| Ride on the pants triumphing. | |
| Cleo. Lord of lords! | 20 |
| O infinite virtue! com’st thou smiling from | |
| The world’s great snare uncaught? | |
| Ant. My nightingale, | |
| We have beat them to their beds. What, girl! though grey | |
| Do something mingle with our younger brown, yet ha’ we | 25 |
| A brain that nourishes our nerves, and can | |
| Get goal for goal of youth. Behold this man; | |
| Commend unto his lips thy favouring hand: | |
| Kiss it, my warrior: he hath fought to-day | |
| As if a god, in hate of mankind, had | 30 |
| Destroy’d in such a shape. | |
| Cleo. I’ll give thee, friend, | |
| An armour all of gold; it was a king’s. | |
| Ant. He has deserv’d it, were it carbuncled | |
| Like holy Phœbus’ car. Give me thy hand: | 35 |
| Through Alexandria make a jolly march; | |
| Bear our hack’d targets like the men that owe them: | |
| Had our great palace the capacity | |
| To camp this host, we all would sup together | |
| And drink carouses to the next day’s fate, | 40 |
| Which promises royal peril. Trumpeters, | |
| With brazen din blast you the city’s ear, | |
| Make mingle with our rattling tabourines, | |
| That heaven and earth may strike their sounds together, | |
| Applauding our approach. [Exeunt. | 45 |
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