_Pet._ In such a number, one would swear they grew, The hills are wooded with their partisans, And all the valleys overgrown with darts, As moors are with rank rushes: no ground left us To charge upon, no room to strike: say fortune And our endeavours bring us in to 'em, They are so infinite, so ever-springing. We shall be kill'd with killing; of desperate Women, That neither fear, or shame e'r found, the devil Has rank'd amongst 'em multitudes: say the men fail, They'll poison us with their petticoats: say they fail, They have priests enough to pray us into nothing. _Sw[e]t._ These are imaginations, dreams of nothing, The man that doubts or fears. _Dec._ I am free of both. _Dem._ The self-same I. _Petill._ And I as free as any; As careless of my flesh, of that we call life, So I may lose it nobly; as indifferent As if it were my diet. Yet, noble General, It was a wisdom learn'd from you; I learn'd it, And worthy of a Soldiers care, most worthy, To weigh with most deliberate circumstance The ends of accidents, above their offers; How to go on and get, to save a _Roman_, Whose one life is more worth in way of doing, Than millions of these painted wasps; how viewing To find advantage out; how; how, found, to follow it With counsel and discretion, lest meer fortune Should claim the victory. _Sw[e]t._ 'Tis true, _Petillius_, And worthily remembred: the rule's certain, Their uses no less excellent: but where time Cuts off occasio[n]s, danger, time and all Tend to a present peril, 'tis required Our Swords and Manhoods be best counsellors, Our expeditions, presidents. To win, is nothing, Where reason, time and counsel are our Camp-masters: But there to bear the field, then to be conquerors, Where pale destruction takes us, takes us beaten, I[n] wants, and mutinies, our selves but handfuls, And to our selves, our own fears, needs a new way, A sudden and a desperate execution: Here, how to save, is loss; to be wise, dangerous; Only a present well-united strength, And minds made up for all attempts, dispatch it: Disputing and delay here, cools the courage; Necessity gives time for doubts; things infinite, According to the spirit they are preach'd to, Rewards like them; and names for after-ages, Must steel the Soldier; his own shame help to arm him; And having forc'd his spirit, e'r he cools, Fling him upon his enemies; sudden and swift, Like Tigers amongst Foxes, we must fight for't: Fury must be our Fortune; shame we have lost, Spurs ever in our sides to prick us forward: There is no other wisdom nor discretion Due to this day of ruine, but destruction; The Soldiers order first, and then his anger. _Dem._ No doubt they dare redeem all.