Pen. Gods defend me,
What multitudes they are, what infinites!
The Roman power shews like a little Star
Hedg'd with a double hollo. Now the knell rings, [Loud shouts.
Heark how they shout to th' battel; how the air
Totters and reels, and rends apieces, Drusus,
With the huge vollied clamours.
Dru. Now they charge.
Oh gods, of all sides, fearfully.
Pen. Little Rome,
Stand but this growing Hydra one short hour,
And thou hast out-done Hercules.
Dru. The dust hides 'em,
We cannot see what follows.
Pen. They are gone,
Gone, swallow'd, Drusus, this eternal Sun
Shall never see 'em march more.
Dru. O turn this way,
And see a modell of the field, some forty,
Against four hundred.
Pen. Well fought, bravely follow'd;
O nobly charg'd again, charg'd home too: Drusus,
They seem to carry it: now they charge all, [Loud.
Close, close, I say; they follow it: ye gods,
Can there be more in men? more daring spirits?
Still they make good their fortunes. Now they are gone too,
For ever gone: see Drusus at their backs
A fearful Ambush rises. Farewell valours,
Excellent valours: O Rome, where's thy wisdome?
Dru. They are gone indeed, Sir.
Pen. Look out toward the Army,
I am heavy with these slaughters.
Dru. 'Tis the same still,
Covered with dust and fury.