as we take hares, behind: 'Tis sport to maul a runner. I will reward thee Once for thy spritely comfort, and ten-fold For thy good valour. Come thee on. I'll halt after. 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 That has to-day escaped. I thank you all; For doughty-handed 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 tears Wash the congealment from your wounds, and kiss The honour'd gashes whole. Give me thy hand 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? My nightingale, We have beat them to their beds. What, girl! though grey 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 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 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: 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, Which promises royal peril. Trumpeters, With brazen din blast you the city's ear; Make mingle with rattling tabourines; That heaven and earth may strike their sounds together, Applauding our approach. If we be not relieved within this hour, We must return to the court of guard: the night Is shiny; and they say we shall embattle By the second hour i' the morn. This last day was A shrewd one to's. O, bear me witness, night,-- What man is this? Stand close, and list him. Be witness to me, O thou blessed moon, When men revolted shall upon record Bear hateful