And to endure whate'er betided them. For now, quoth he, is come that happy day, Wherein our country shall approve our love. Brave Romans, know this is the day and hour, That we must all live free, or friendly die: For my part, being an ancient senator, An emperor and consul, I disdain The world should see me to become a slave. I'll either conquer, or this sword you see (Which brightly shone) shall make an end of me. We fight not, we, like thieves, for others' wealth: We fight not, we, t' enlarge our scant confines: To purchase fame to our posterities, By stuffing of our trophies in their houses. But 'tis for public freedom that we fight, For Rome we fight, and those that fled for fear. Nay more, we fight for safety of our lives, Our goods, our honours, and our ancient laws. As for the empire and the Roman state (Due to the victor), thereon ruminate: Think how this day the honourable dames, With blubber'd eyes and hands to heaven uprear'd, Sit invocating for us to the gods, That they will bless our holy purposes. Methinks I see poor Rome in horror clad, And aged senators, in sad discourse, Mourn for our sorrows and their servitude. Methinks I see them while lamenting thus, Their hearts and eyes lie hovering over us. On then, brave men, my fellows and Rome's friends, To show us worthy of our ancestors: And let us fight with courage, and conceit That we may rest the masters of the field; That this brave tyrant, valiantly beset, May perish in the press before our faces; And that his troops (as touch'd with lightning flames) May by our horse in heaps be overthrown, And he (blood-thirsting) wallow in his own. This said: his army crying all at once, With joyful tokens did applaud his speech; Whose swift, shrill noise did pierce into the clouds, Like northern winds that beat the horned Alps. The clatt'ring armour, buskling as they pac'd, Rong through the forests with a frightful noise, And every echo took the trumpet's clang. When (like a tempest rais'd with whirlwind's rage) They ran at ever-each[374] other hand and foot; Wherewith the dust, as with a darksome cloud, Arose, and over-shadow'd horse and man. The darts and arrows on their armour glanc'd, And with their fall the trembling earth was shaken. The air (that thick'ned with their thund'ring cries) With pale, wan clouds discoloured the sun. The fire in sparks fro' forth their armour flew, And with a duskish yellow chok'd the heavens. The battles lock'd (with bristle-pointed spears) Do at the half-pike freely charge each other, And dash together like two lusty bulls, That (jealous of some heifer in the herd) Run head to head, and (sullen) will not yield, Till, dead or fled, the one forsake the field. The shiver'd lances (rattling in the air)