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