Scene 5.5

A

I Neuer yet knew, Souldiers, that, in fight, Words added vertue vnto valiant men; Or, that a Generals oration made An Army fall, or stand: But how much prowesse Habituall, or naturall each mans breast Was owner of, so much in act it shew'd.

``Whom neither glory' or danger can excitèÌt is vaine to attempt with speech: For the minds fearè`Keepes all braue sounds from entring at that eare.

I, yet, would warne you some few things, my Friends, And give you reason of my present counsailes.

You know, no less then I, what state, what point Our affaires stand in; And you all have heard, What a calamitous misery the sloth, And sleepineese of Lentulus, hath pluck'd Both on himselfe, and us: How, whilst our aides There, in the Citty look'd for, are defeated, Our entrance in Gallia, too, is stopt.

Two Armies waite us: One from Rome, the other From the Gaule-Prouinces. And, where we are, (Although I most desire it) the great want Of corne, and victuall, forbids longer stay.

So that, of neede, we must remoue, but whither The sword must both direct, and cut the passage.

I only, therefore, wish you, when you strike, To have your valours, and your soules, about you; And think, you carry in your laboring hands The things you seeke, glory, and liberty, Your Countrey, which you want now, with the Fates, That are to be instructed, by our swords, If we can give the blow, all will be safe to us.

We shall not want prouision, nor supplies.

The Colonies, and free Townes will lie open.

Where, if we yeeld to feare, expect no place, Nor friend, to shelter those, whom their owne Fortune, And ill vs'd Armes have left without protection.

You might have liu'd in seruitude, or exile, Of safe at Rome, depending on the great ones; But that you thought those things vnfit for men.

And, in that thought, you then were valiant, For no man euer yet chang'd peace for warre, But he, that meant to conquer. Hold that purpose.

There is more necessity, you should be such, In fighting for your selues, then they for others.

``He is base, that trusts his feete, whose hands are arm'd.

Me thinks, I see Death, and the Furies, waiting What we will do; and all the Heauen' at leysure For the great Spectacle. Draw, then, your swords: And, if our desteny enuy our vertue The honor of the day, yet let us care To sell our selues, at such a price, as may Vndoe the world to buy us; and make Fate, While she tempts ours, feare her own estate.