Till Victory sees them shining through the night
And knows which way to bend her doubtful wings!
On, on, my men! On, Syracusans, on!
[All go off left, cheering. Enter Gylippus, right, rear, wounded]
Gylippus. I'll drop me here till flame or steel o'er-take me. [Falls down]
Menodes. [Entering] Gylippus? Wounded?
Gy. Deep enough. No matter.
Wounds are Bellona's favors. Do you bleed?
Men. I lose an arm. 'Twas a warm kiss that took it.
Gy. Hast seen the stranger and his Leontines?