The first scene of the second act represents part of the Duke of Milan’s camp near Maclodio. Malatesti, the commander-in-chief, and Pergola, a Condottiere of great distinction, are deliberating upon the state of the war. Pergola considers it imprudent to give battle, Malatesti is of a contrary opinion. They are joined by Sforza and Fortebraccio, who are impatient for action, and Torello, who endeavours to convince them of its inexpediency. _Sfo._ Torello, didst thou mark the ardent soul Which fires each soldier’s eye? _Tor._ I mark’d it well. I heard th’ impatient shout, th’ exulting voice Of Hope and Courage; and I turn’d aside, That on my brow the warrior might not read Th’ involuntary thought whose sudden gloom Had cast deep shadows there. It was a thought, That this vain semblance of delusive joy Soon like a dream shall fade. It was a thought On wasted valour doom’d to perish here. * * * * * For these--what boots it to disguise the truth?-- These are no wars in which, for all things loved, And precious, and revered--for all the ties Clinging around the heart--for those whose smile Makes home so lovely--for his native land, And for its laws, the patriot soldier fights! These are no wars in which the chieftain’s aim Is but to station his devoted bands, And theirs, thus fix’d--to die! It is _our_ fate To lead a hireling train, whose spirits breathe Fury, not fortitude. With burning hearts They rush where Victory, smiling, waves them on; But if delay’d, if between flight and death Pausing they stand--is there no cause to doubt What choice were theirs? And but too well our hearts That choice might here foresee. Oh! evil times, When for the leader care augments, the more Bright glory fades away! Yet once again, This is no field for us.