ied then,
One Monument had held our names, and actions:
Why do you set upon your friends such prices?
And sacrifice to giddy chance such Trophies?
Have we forgot to dye? or are our vertues
Less in afflictions constant, than our fortunes?
Ye are deceiv'd old Souldier.

_Leo_. I know your worths,
And thus low bow in reverence to your vertues:
Were these my Wars, or led my power in chief here,
I knew then how to meet your memories:
They are my Kings imployments; this man fights now,
To whom I ow all duty, faith, and service;
This man that fled before ye; call back that,
That bloudy day again, call that disgrace home,
And then an easie Peace may sheath our Swords up.
I am not greedy of your lives and fortunes,
Nor do I gape ungratefully to swallow ye.
Honour, the spur of all illustrious natures,
That made you famous Souldiers, and next Kings,
And not ambitious envy strikes me forward.
Will ye unarm, and yield your selves his prisoners?

_Sel_. We never knew what that sound meant: no Gyves
Shall ever bind this body, but embraces;
Nor weight of sorrow here, till Earth fall on me.

_Leo_. Expect our charge then.

_Lysi_. 'Tis the nobler courtesie:
And so we leave the hand of Heaven to bless us.

_Dem_. Stay, have you any hope?

_Sel_. We have none left us,
But that one comfort of our deaths together;
Give us but room to fight.

_Leo_. Win it, and wear it.

_Ptol_. Call from the hills those Companies hang o're us,
Like bursting Clouds; and then break in, and take us.

_Dem_. Find such a Souldier will forsake advantage,
And we'll draw off to shew I dare be noble,
And hang a light out to ye in this darkness,
The light of peace; give up those Cities, Forts,
And all those Frontier Countries to our uses.

_Sel_. Is this the Peace? Traitors to those that feed us,
Our Gods and people? give our Countries from us?

_Lysi_. Begin the Knell, it sounds a great deal sweeter.

_Ptol_. Let loose your servant, death.

_Sel_. Fall fate upon us,
Our memories shall never stink behind us.

_Dem_. Seleucus_, great _Seleucus_.

_Sol_. The Prince calls, Sir.

_Dem_. Thou stock of nobleness, and courtesie,
Thou Father of the War--

_Leo_. What means the Prince now?

_Dem_. Give me my Standard here.

_Lysi_. His anger's melted.

_Dem_. You Gentlemen that were his prisoners,
And felt the bounty of that noble nature,
Lay all your hands, and bear these Colours to him,
The Standard of the Kingdom; take it Souldier.