Machiavelli drops analytical distance for a direct appeal. After weighing whether the present age favors a new prince, he concludes he has never known a time more fit. If Israel had to be captive to reveal Moses, Persia oppressed to reveal Cyrus, and Athens scattered to reveal Theseus, then Italy's present ruin was necessary to show what an Italian spirit could do. She is more enslaved than those peoples, without head or order, beaten and despoiled, yet entreating God for a deliverer and ready to follow any banner someone will raise.
A leader once seemed ordained for redemption, but fortune rejected him at the height of his rise, leaving Italy lifeless. Machiavelli turns to the Medici house, with valour, fortune, God, and the Church behind it, as the power most capable of heading this redemption if it recalls the lives of the great founders he has named. The cause is just because necessary war is just, and arms are hallowed when no other hope remains. Willingness is immense; God has already done wonders, but he will not take away the share of glory that belongs to human free will.
No prior Italian has done what the age demands because the old military order failed and no one found a new one. Italians excel in duels yet fail in armies for lack of leaders worthy of obedience. Machiavelli urges the Medici to build their own forces, because Italian soldiers under their prince would be faithful and formidable. Even Swiss and Spanish infantry have defects a new order could exploit. The liberator would be received with love, revenge, devotion, and tears. To all of us this barbarous dominion stinks. Machiavelli closes by calling the house to take up the charge with courage and hope, so Italy may be ennobled under its standard and Petrarch's old verse may prove true: ancient valour is not yet dead in Italian hearts.
