Lop. Your Majesty, this counsel is not wise.
It is not honor!
Salm. Honor will lead the flight!
To stay were crime! Sire, give the order now.
At once! The firing to the north has ceased.
All night I ’ve reconnoitered. The way is clear
For the last time. We ’ll arm the citizens
To cover flight, and in an hour—
Lop. We ’ll be
Attacked on every side! A madman’s counsel!
Salm. O, sire, lose not a moment!
Mir. Lopez is right.
To fly from death is not dishonor, but who
That values honor throws away one chance
Of victory?
Salm. There is no chance. Not one!
My word is fly, and I ’m no coward, sire.
Max. You ’ve led our troops where every track was blood,
And in the throat of battle, hand to hand,
Have fought with Death! We know you ’ll dare a fight
As far as any man while there ’s a hope
Of victory.
Salm. But I ’ll not make my folly
The captain to defeat.
Lop. ’T is not defeat!
The Liberals are at their fortune’s ebb.
They’re sick with fear, and tremble in their rags.
Mendez. Let ’s fight it out, my lord!