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Hannibal

A Drama [Part 2]
  

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Scene III.
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Scene III.

The Temple of Juno on the promontory of Lacinium, surrounded by groves and pastures. The Italian troops gathered in and around it.
Enter Maharbal.
Mah.
What! what! You will not! Oh, you pitiful turncoats!
Dogs! Scoundrels! all of you! You will not, then?

Ital.
We have had war enough! For fifteen years,

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There has been no peace in Italy for him!
We will not follow him to Africa—
We will not go and perish in the desert!

Mah.
I'd like to see you say this to his face!
So this is all the thanks he gets from you
For making soldiers of you, giving you
So many victories over your enemies!

Ital.
We will not leave this land—we swear we will not!

Mah.
A pretty pack of cowards are you all!
You fear salt water, do you? By my life!
I'll throw you every man into the sea.
Ha! horse-hoofs that methinks I know the sound of!

Enter Hannibal.
Han.
What's this, Italians? What's this mutiny?

Ital.
O Hannibal, take us not o'er the seas!

Han.
Peace! Let me never hear those words again,
And I'll forget that you have uttered them!
Where'er I go, you'll follow.

Ital.
Oh, thou know'st us!
Remain in Italy, and we're thy slaves!

Han.
I have trained you like my children, you Italians!
I have been proud to win my victories with you,
I know you better than you know yourselves,
And I'll not yet believe you are no braver
Than frightened girls that weep to leave their mothers!

Ital.
Try us! oh, try us! Lead us to Rome's gates,

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And we will burst them for thee!

Han.
Not to Rome
I choose to lead you, but to Afric—What!
You think, when I am gone, you'll stay at home,
To eat and drink, and boast of your old fights,
Whilst o'er the seas, Scipio and I are locked
In the death grapple? And when I come back,
Conqueror without your help, you'll wish me joy?
Ay, hang your heads, lest I should see you blush!
You will not cross the seas to Afric? Nay,
But your new masters wait to lash you thither,
Whine and crouch as you will. I'll meet you then
Meet my old soldiers, but no longer mine—
No more your general, but with levelled spears!

Ital.
We'll perish first! Curst be the man of us
That dreams of fighting 'neath a Roman banner!
Dost thou not know thou break'st our hearts to say so?

Han.
Come, then, with me! Make not my triumph sad,
Won without you! We are so knit together,
The gods themselves dare not to part us. Come!
Help me to win the noblest of my battles!
Help me to save my Carthage! One more victory,
Then home! yes, home to happy Italy!

Ital.
We go! we go!—We follow thee to death!—
Forgive us, oh, forgive us!—We were mad!
Take us! still take us!—We are thine for ever!

Han.
Oh, now I know again my brave Italians!
The old voice, the old look, and the old love!

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Who says we shall not stand or fall together?
Let Juno ratify our new betrothment,
And witness your true vows!

Ital.
We swear by Juno!
May Juno strike us dead, if now we fail thee!

[The Italian troops march out of the Temple.]
Han.
They have done well; for death was at the door—
Had they stood out—in a more human shape.

Mah.
I would have done the business with a will!

Han.
So Mago's work is done, and he is gone!
None left to mourn me, as I mourn for him.

[Exit.