There'll not be breath enough in all the city
To say good-morrow to the sun.
[Cheers without, right, front. Enter a warrior at the head of troops. He wears helmet and carries shield]
Warrior. Shame, shame!
O, Syracusans, shame! If ye be men,
Let battle take the garb of order, and death
Array itself in decency! I've brought
A band of noble Leontines to strike
With who shall prove no coward! Lift your swords