1
V,6,3828
How is it with our general?
2
V,6,3865
So he did, my lord: The army marvell'd at it, and, in the last, When he had carried Rome and that we look'd For no less spoil than glory,—
3
V,6,3877
Your native town you enter'd like a post, And had no welcomes home: but he returns, Splitting the air with noise.