n,
They shall be ransom'd: let it be at Millions.

_Dem_. They are dead, they are dead.

_Lieu_. When wou'd he weep for me thus?
I may be dead and powder'd.

_Leo_. Good Prince, grieve not:
We are not certain of their deaths: the Enemy,
Though he be hot, and keen,
Yet holds good Quarter.
What Noise is this?

[_Great Shout within: Enter Gentlemen._

_Lieu_. He does not follow us?
Give me a Steeple top.

_Leo_. They live, they live, Sir.

_Ant_. Hold up your manly face.
They live, they are here, Son.

_Dem_. These are the men.

_1 Gent_. They are, and live to honour ye.

_Dem_. How 'scap'd ye noble friends? methought I saw ye
Even in the Jaws of Death.

_2 Gent_. Thanks to our folly,
That spur'd us on; we were indeed hedg'd round in't;
And ev'n beyond the hand of succour, beaten,
Unhors'd, disarm'd: and what we lookt for then, Sir,
Let such poor weary Souls that hear the Bell knoll,
And see the Grave a digging, tell.

_Dem_. For Heavens sake
Delude mine Eyes no longer! how came ye off?

_1 Gent_. Against all expectation, the brave _Seleucus_,
I think this day enamour'd on your Vertue,
When, through the Troops, he saw ye shoot like lightning;
And at your manly courage all took fire;
And after that, the misery we fell to
The never-certain Fate of War, considering,
As we stood all before him, Fortunes ruines,
Nothing but Death expecting, a short time
He made a stand upon our Youths and Fortunes.
Then with an eye of mercy inform'd his Judgment,
How yet unripe we were, unblown, unharden'd,
Unfitted for such fatal ends; he cryed out to us,
Go Gentlemen, commend me to your Master,
To the most High, and Hopeful Prince, _Demetrius_;
Tell him the Valour that he showed against me
This day, the Virgin Valour, and true fire,
Deserves even from an Enemy this courtesie;
Your Lives, and Arms freely. I'll give 'em: thank him.
And thus we are return'd, Sir.

_Leo_. Faith, 'twas well done;
'Twas bravely done; was't not a noble part, Sir?

_Lieu_. Had I been there, up had I gone, I am sure on't;
These noble tricks I never durst trust 'em yet.

_Leo_. Let me not live, and't were not a famed honesty;
It takes me such a tickling way: now would I wish Heaven,
But e'n the happiness, e'n that poor blessing
For all the sharp afflictions thou hast sent me,
But e'n i'th' head o'th' field, to take _Seleucus_.
I should do something memorable: fie, sad still?

_1 Gent_. Do you grieve, we are come off?

_Dem_. U