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But—and all Lucca speaketh in these words— Rather we take the suffering; and the wrong Rests on the oppressor's head, than we submit. Not while one hand can strike on Lucca's side, Not while one stone is left of Lucca's walls, Not while one heart beats in our country's cause, Will Lucca stoop beneath a foreign yoke. Ye only fight for conquest or for spoil: We for our homes, our rights, our ancient walls! The sword is drawn—God be the judge between us!

Have ye no other answer?

None! Cesario is your escort to the gates.

I take your answer—war, then, to the death.—[Exit.

Are ye not rash in this? how weak our state, Compared with Florence.

Twice have we met them in the open field, Each time they fled before us. Oh! my friends, If I may call ye such, we are not weak Who have our own good swords, and urge a war Just in the sight of heaven. Our weakness lies In our dissension, in the small base aims That disunite us from the common cause. Lucca were strong, had Lucca but one heart! Why should ye be mine enemies? I seek Yours in the general good. I stand between