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._ War, War, my noble Father.

_1 Em._ Thus I fling it:
And fair ey'd peace, farewel.

_Ant._ You have your answer;
Conduct out the Embassadours, and give 'em Convoyes.

_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.

_3 Em._ You will find so hot a Souldier's welcome, Sir,
Your favour shall not freeze.

_2 Em._ A forward Gentleman,
Pity the Wars should bruise such hopes--

_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.

_Enter_ Leontius.

_2 Gent._ Never