Quintus Fabius monologue (Act 4) — Numantia

Calm, prudent general, thine angry mood, For this my blade doth know the cause right well, Which now hath cost thee many a soldier good, Of those who most in manliness excel. Two Numantines, with pride and daring rude, Whose deeds of courage my applause compel, O'erleaping the wide ditch and battled height, Have waged within thy camp a cruel fight. They sallied through our guards and pickets first, To face a thousand spears in open fray, And dealt their blows with such a fury curst, That to our very camp they hewed their way; Into Fabricius' tent with rage they burst, And made of strength and valour such display, That in an instant six stout men and true Were by their deadly steel pierced through and through. Ne'er did the burning bolt with speedier flight Cleave in its onward course the smitten air; Ne'er did the meteor, with its stream of light, More quickly pass athwart the heavens fair; Than passed these two, exulting in their might, Through middle of thy host, and soaked the bare Hard ground with Roman blood, which forth did stream Where'er their flashing swords were seen to gleam. With breast pierced through the bold Fabricius lay; Horatius fell with head cleft to the brain; Olmida lost his right arm in the fray, And little hope of life doth now remain; Our brave Estatius made a full display Of all his lithesome vigour, but in vain, For as he ran the Numantine to meet, His passage on to death was still more fleet. With speed of lightning, hurrying where they may, They ran from tent to tent, until they found Some scraps of biscuit, which they seized as prey. With fury, still unquenched, they turned them round; The one escaped by flight and got away, A thousand swords made t'other bite the ground; Whence I infer that hunger made them bold, And raised their daring to a pitch untold.