Ammian.
Right, right! Close with them! Thrust them down! Give them no time to shoot!
Nevita.
[With followers from the right.] Well fought, Ammian!
Ammian.
Oh sir, why come not the cavalry to our help?
Nevita.
They cannot. The Persians have elephants in their front rank. The very smell strikes terror to the horses. Thrust—thrust! Upwards, men,—under their breastplates?
Kytron.
[In night-clothes, laden with books and rolls of paper, enters from the right.] Oh that I should be in the midst of such horrors!