ASCHILLUS. Wherein, renowmed king, myself or mine, My life, my kingdom, and all Denmark’s pow’r, May serve your turn: account them all your own. KING OF NORWAY. And whatsoe’er my force, or Norway aid, May help in your attempts, I vow it here. GAWIN. As heretofore I always serv’d your hest. So let this day be judge of Gawin’s trust. Either my brother Mordred dies the death By mine assault, or I at least by his. ARTHUR. Since thus (my faithful mates) with vows alike And equal love to Arthur’s cause you join In common care to wreak my private wrongs, Lift up your ensigns efts, stretch out your strengths; Pursue your fates; perform your hopes to Mars. Lo, here the last and outmost work for blades! This is the time that all our valour craves: This time by due desert restores again Our goods, our lands, our lives, our weal and all. This time declares by fates whose cause is best; This, this condemns the vanquish’d side of guilt. Wherefore, if for my sake you scorn yourselves, And spare no sword nor fire in my defence, Then, whiles my censure justifies your cause, Fight, fight amain, and clear your blades from crime: The judge once chang’d, no wars are free from guilt. The better cause gives us the greater hope Of prosperous wars; wherein, if once I hap To spy the wonted signs, that never fail’d Their guide--your threatening looks, your fiery eyes, And bustling bodies prest to present spoil, The field is won! Even then, methinks, I see The wonted wastes and scattered heads of foes, The Irish carcass kick’d, and Picts oppress’d, And Saxons slain to swim in streams of blood. I quake with hope. I can assure you all, We never had a greater match in hand. March on! Delay no fates, whilst fortune fawns; The greatest praise of war consists in speed. [_Exeunt Reges et Cohors._ THE FOURTH SCENE. CADOR, ARTHUR. CADOR. Since thus (victorious king) your peers allies, Your lords, and all your powers be ready prest, For good, for bad, for whatsoe’er shall hap, To spend both limb and life in your defence, Cast off all doubts and rest yourself on Mars: A hopeless fear forbids a happy fate.