_Eust._ [_Rises._] I:---- E'en I;--the growling knave, whom children point at. To save those children, and their hapless mothers, To snatch the virgin from the ravisher, To shield the bent and hoary citizen, To push the sword back from his aged throat, (Fresh reeking, haply, in his house's blood,) I render up myself for sacrifice.---- Will no one budge? Then let the English in; Let in the enemy, to find us wasted, And winking in the socket. Rouse, for shame! Rouse, citizens! Think on your wives, your infants! And let us not be so far shamed in story, That we should lack six men within our walls, To save them thus from slaughter. _De Vienne._ Noble soul! I could, for this, fall down and worship thee. Thou warm'st my heart. Does no one else appear, To back this gallant veteran? _D'Aire._ Eustache,-- Myself, and these two brothers, my companions, All of your house, and near of kin to you, Have ponder'd on your words:--we sure must die, If we or go, or stay:--but, what weighs most-- We would not see our helpless little ones Butcher'd before our eyes. We'll go with thee. _Eust._ Now, by our good St. Dennis, I do feel proud! My lowly house's glory Shall live on record. What are birth and titles? Feathers for children. The plain honest mind, That branches forth in charity and virtue, Shrinks lordly pomp to nought; and makes vain pedigree Blush at his frothy boasting.--We are four;-- Fellows in death and honour.--Two remain To fill our number. _De Vienne._ Pause a while, my friends; We yet have breathing time;--though troth but little.-- I must go forth, a hostage to the English, Till you appear. Break up our sad assembly;-- And, for the rest, agree among yourselves. Were the time apt, I could well waste a year In praising this your valour. [_To EUSTACHE._ _Eust._ Break we up. If any Can wind his sluggish courage to the pitch, Meet me anon i'th' market-place: and, thence, Will we march forth. Ye have but this, remember; Either plunge bravely into death, or wait Till the full tide of blood flows in upon you, And shame and slaughter overwhelm us. Come; My noble partners, come! [_Exeunt._ SCENE III. _An apartment in the GOVERNOR's House._ _Enter JULIA and RIBAUMONT._ _Ribau._ Yet, hear me, Julia---- _Julia._ Pr'ythee, good my lord, Press me not thus: my father's strict command-- I must not say 'tis harsh--forbids me listen.