Act IVScene VIII
Under the Walls of Alexandria
Alarum. Enter Antony again in a march; Scarus with others.
Antony
We have beat him to his camp. Run one beforeAnd let the Queen know of our gests.Tomorrow,Before the sun shall see’s, we’ll spill the bloodThat has today escaped. I thank you all,For doughty-handed are you, and have foughtNot as you served the cause, but as’t had beenEach 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 tearsWash the congealment from your wounds and kissThe honoured gashes whole.
Enter Cleopatra.
To Scarus.
Give me thy hand.To this great fairy I’ll commend thy acts,Make her thanks bless thee. O thou day o’ th’ world,Chain mine armed neck. Leap thou, attire and all,Through proof of harness to my heart, and thereRide on the pants triumphing.
Cleopatra
Lord of lords!O infinite virtue, com’st thou smiling fromThe world’s great snare uncaught?
Antony
Mine nightingale,We have beat them to their beds. What, girl! Though greyDo something mingle with our younger brown, yet ha’ weA brain that nourishes our nerves and canGet goal for goal of youth. Behold this man.Commend unto his lips thy favouring hand.—Kiss it, my warrior. He hath fought todayAs if a god, in hate of mankind, hadDestroyed in such a shape.
Cleopatra
I’ll give thee, friend,An armour all of gold. It was a king’s.
Antony
He has deserved it, were it carbuncledLike holy Phœbus’ car. Give me thy hand.Through Alexandria make a jolly march;Bear our hacked targets like the men that owe them.Had our great palace the capacityTo camp this host, we all would sup togetherAnd drink carouses to the next day’s fate,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.