Corabino monologue (Act 3) — Numantia

Coward! Wilt hear no more? Wilt hide thy shame? The just and equal combat dost thou fear? Thy conduct stamps contempt upon thy name, By no such means wilt thou sustain it here, Thine answer is so cowardly and tame. Ye Romans, cowards are ye, it is clear, Your trust is only in your teeming host, Ye fear to raise the doughty arms ye boast! O cruel, treacherous, of little worth, Conspirators and tyrants are ye all! Ungrateful, grasping, low in breed and birth, Ferocious, obstinate and rustical! Lascivious, base, renowned through all the earth For toiling hands whose bravery is small! What glory hope ye from our death and doom, While thus ye hold us in a living tomb? Ye squadrons close, or single files that scour The open field, where neither ditch nor wall Can offer hindrance to your rampant power, Or check the fatal fierce assault at all, 'Twere well, instead of turning tail this hour, And keeping these your useless blades in thrall, That your vast army, boastful of its powers, Should grapple with this feeble band of ours. But as it is your long accustomed trade, To conquer men with numbers and with guile, These compacts, which for valiant men are made, Are ill-adapted to your crafty style. Ye timid hares, in savage skins arrayed, Go, trumpet forth your deeds, for in a while, I trust in mighty Jove to see you all Beneath Numantia's sovereignty and thrall.