CHIEF. No, none; all march. Here ends the play.
March, and burn camp. The order's gone;
Your men have sent your baggage on.
COTTA. My God! hark how the trumpets bray!
CHIEF. They do. You see the end of things.
The power of a thousand kings
Helped us to this, and now the power
Is so much hay that was a flower.
LUCIUS. We have been very great and strong.
CHIEF. That's over now.
LUCIUS. It will be long
Before the world will see our like.
CHIEF. We've kept these thieves beyond the dyke
A good long time, here on the Wall.
LUCIUS. Colonel, we ought to sound a call
To mark the end of this.
CHIEF. We ought.
Look, there's the hill-top where we fought
Old Foxfoot. Look, there in the whin.
Old ruffian knave! Come on! Fall in!