Act 4 - Scene 8
Under the walls of Alexandria.
Alarum. Enter MARK ANTONY, in a march; SCARUS, with others
We have beat him to his camp: run one before,
And let the queen know of our gests. To-morrow,
the sun shall see 's, we'll spill the blood
That has to-day escaped. I thank you all;
are you, and have fought
Not as you served 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,
Tell them your feats; whilst they with joyful
Wash the congealment from your wounds, and kiss
The honour'd gashes whole.
Give me thy hand
Enter CLEOPATRA, attended
To this great fairy I'll commend thy acts,
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!
Lord of lords!
O infinite virtue, comest thou smiling from
The world's great snare uncaught?
We have beat them to their beds. What, girl!
Do something mingle with our
younger brown, yet ha' we
A brain that nourishes our nerves, and can
Get goal for goal of youth. Behold
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
Destroy'd in such a shape.
I'll give thee, friend,
An armour all of gold; it was a king's.
He has deserved it, were it carbuncled
Like holy Phoebus' car. Give me thy hand:
make a jolly march;
Bear our hack'd targets like the men that owe them:
Had our great palace the capacity
camp this host, we all would sup together,
And drink carouses to the next day's fate,
royal peril. Trumpeters,
With brazen din blast you the city's ear;
Make mingle with rattling tabourines;
heaven and earth may strike their sounds together,
Applauding our approach.
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