He, who springs up a Hercules at once,

Nursed in effeminate arts from youth to manhood,

And rushes from the banquet to the battle,

As though it were a bed of love, deserves

That a Greek girl should be his paramour,

And a Greek bard his minstrel—a Greek tomb

His monument. How goes the strife, sir?

Enter an Officer.

Officer.‍Lost,

Lost almost past recovery. Zames! Where