BAL. Come, valiant spirits, you peers of Portugal, That owe your lives, your faiths, and services, To set you free from base captivity. O, let our fathers’ scandal ne’er be seen As a base blush upon our free-born cheeks; Let all the tribute that proud Spain received Of those all captive Portugals deceased, Turn into chafe, and choke their insolence. Methinks, no moiety, not one little thought Of them whose servile acts live in their graves, But should raise spleens big as a cannon-bullet Within your bosoms: O, for honour, Your country’s reputation, your lives’ freedom, Indeed your all, that may be termed revenge, Now let your bloods be liberal as the sea; And all those wounds that you receiv[’d] of Spain, Let theirs be equal to quit yours again. Speak, Portugals! are you resolved as I, To live like captives, or as free-born die? VOL. Prince Balthezar, as you say, so say we; To die with honour, scorn captivity. ALEX. Why, spoke like true Portugals indeed; I am assured of your forwardness. Now, Spain, sit firm, I’ll make thy towers shake, And all that gold thou hadst from Portugal, Which makes thy court melt in luxuriousness, I vow to have it treble at thy hands. Hark, Portugals! I hear their Spanish drum: March on, and meet them; this must be the day, That all they have received they back must pay. [_The Portugals march about._ _Enter_ JERONIMO, ANDREA, HORATIO, LORENZO, LORD GENERAL, ROGERO, _and Attendants, with Drum and Colours._ JER. What, are you braving us before we come! We’ll be as shrill as you: strike ’larum, drum. [_They sound a flourish on both sides._ BAL. Thou inch of Spain! Thou man, from thy hose downward scarce so much! Thou very little longer than thy beard! Speak not such big words; they’ll throw thee down, Little Jeronimo! words greater than thyself! It must not [be]. JER. And thou long thing of Portugal, why not? Thou, that art full as tall As an English gallows, upper beam and all, Devourer of apparel, thou huge swallower, My hose will scarce make thee a standing collar. What! have I almost quited you? AND. Have done, impatient marshal. BAL. Spanish combatants, What! do you set a little pigmy marshal To question with a prince? AND. No, prince Balthezar; I have desired him peace, that we might war: What! is the tribute-money tendered yet? BAL. Tribute? ha, ha! What else: Wherefore meet our drums, But to tender and receive the sums Of many a bleeding heart which, ere sun fall, Shall pay dear tribute, even their lives and all.