(A confused murmur—some of the soldiers call out)
(Others call out)
Ay, march us there, and be our leader still.
Bas. Nay, if I am your leader, I'll command ye
And where I do command, there shall you go,
But not to Milan. No, nor shall you deviate
E'en half a furlong from your destin'd way,
To seize the golden booty of the east.
Think not to gain, or temporize with me,
For should I this day's mutiny survive,
Much as I've lov'd you, soldiers, ye shall find me
Still more relentless in pursuit of vengeance;
Tremendous, cruel, military vengeance.
There is no mean—a desp'rate game ye play,
Therefore I say, obey, or murder me.
Do as ye will, but do it manfully.
He is a coward who doth threaten me,
The man who slays me, but an angry soldier,
Acting in passion, like the frantick son,
Who struck his sire, and wept.
(Soldier's call out.) It was thyself who sought to murder us.
1st. Sol. You have unto the Emp'ror pledg'd your faith,
To lead us foremost in all desp'rate service;
You have agreed to sell your soldiers' blood,
And we have shed our dearest blood for you.
Bas. Hear me, my soldiers
