Alarum. Drums and trumpets. Enter Agrippa and
Retire! We have engaged ourselves too far.
Caesar himself has work, and our oppression
Exceeds what we expected.
Alarums. Enter Antony, and Scarus wounded
O my brave emperor, this is fought indeed!
Had we done so at first, we had droven them home
With clouts about their heads.
Thou bleed'st apace.
I had a wound here that was like a T,
But now 'tis made an H.
Retreat sounded far off
They do retire.
We'll beat 'em into bench-holes. I have yet
Room for six scotches more.
They are beaten, sir, and our advantage serves
For a fair victory.
Let us score their backs
And snatch 'em up, as we take hares, behind.
'Tis sport to maul a runner.
I will reward thee
Once for thy sprightly comfort, and tenfold
For thy good valour. Come thee on.
I'll halt after.