Cel. Lord, how they flock now!

      Before I was afraid they would have beat me;

      How these flies play i'th' Sun-shine! pray ye no services,

      Or if ye needs must play the Hobby-horses,

      Seek out some beauty that affects 'em: farewel,

      Nay pray ye spare: Gentlemen I am old enough

      To go alone at these years, without crutches. [Exit.

      2 Ush. Well I could curse now: but that will not help me,

      I made as sure account of this wench now, immediately,

      Do but consider how the Devil has crost me,

      Meat for my Master she cries, well—

      3 Em. Once more, Sir, We ask your resolutions: Peace or War yet?

      Dem. Tell your high hearted Masters, they shall not seek us,

      Nor cool i'th' field in expectation of us,

      We'l ease your men those marches: In their strengths,

      And full abilities of mind and courage,

      We'l find 'em out, and at their best trim buckle with 'em.

      Ant. Conduct em— [Ex. Em.

      Now, for this preparation: where's Leontius?

      Call him in presently: for I mean in person Gentlemen

      My self, with my old fortune—

      Dem. Royal Sir:

      Thus low I beg this honour: fame already

      Hath every where rais'd Trophies to your glory,

      And conquest now grown old, and weak with following

      The weary marches and the bloody shocks

      You daily set her in: 'tis now scarce honour

      For you that never knew to fight, but conquer,

      To sparkle such poor people: the Royal Eagle

      When she hath tri'd [h]er young ones 'gainst the Sun,

      And found 'em right; next teacheth 'em to prey,

      How to command on wing, and check below her

      Even Birds of noble plume; I am your own, Sir,

      You have found my spirit, try it now, and teach it

      To stoop whole Kingdoms: leave a little for me:

      Let not your glory be so greedy, Sir,

      To eat up all my hopes; you gave me life,

      If to that life you add not what's more lasting

      A noble name, for man, you have made a shadow:

      Bless me this day: bid me go on, and lead,

      Bid me go on, no less fear'd, than Antigonus,

      And to my maiden sword, tye fast your fortune:

      I know 'twill fight it self then: dear Sir, honour me:

      Never fair Virgin long'd so.

      Ant. Rise, and command then,

      And be as fortunate, as I expect ye:

      I love that noble will; your young companions

      Bred up and foster'd with ye, I hope Demetrius,

      You will make souldiers too: they must not leave ye.

      Leon. Who commands, Sir?

      Methinks mine eye should guide me: can there be

      (If you your self will spare him so much honour)

      Any found out to lead before your Armies,

      So full of faith, and fire, as brave Demetrius?

      King Philips Son, at his years was an old Souldier,

      'Tis time his Fortune be o' wing, high time, Sir,

      So many idle hours, as here he loyters,

      So many ever-living names he loses,

      I hope 'tis he.

      Ant. 'Tis he indeed, and nobly

      He shall set forward: draw you all those Garrisons

      Upon the frontiers as you pass: to those

      Joyn these in pay at home, our ancient souldiers,

      And as you go press all the Provinces.

      Leo. We shall not [need];

      Believe, this hopefull Gentleman

      Can want no swords, nor honest hearts to follow him,

      We shall be full, no fear Sir.

      Ant. You Leontius,

      Because