Soul.  Faith neither great, nor out of indiscretion.  The young men out of heat.

Enter Demetrius, Leontius, and Lieutenant.

Ant.  I guess the manner.

Lord.  The Prince and’t like your Grace.

Ant.  You are welcome home, Sir: 
Come, no more sorrow, I have heard your fortune,
And I my self have try’d the like:  clear up man,
I will not have ye take it thus; if I doubted
Your fear had lost, and that you had turn’d your back to ’em,
Basely besought their mercies—­

Leo.  No, no, by this hand, Sir, We fought like honest and tall men.

Antig.  I know’t Leontius:  or if I thought
Neglect of rule, having his counsel with ye,
Or too vain-glorious appetite of Fame,
Your men forgot and scatter’d.

Leo.  None of these, Sir,
He shew’d himself a noble Gentleman,
Every way apt to rule.

Ant.  These being granted; Why should you think you have done an act so hainous, That nought but discontent dwells round about ye?  I have lost a Battel.

Leo.  I, and fought it hard too.

Ant.  With as much means as man—­

Leo.  Or Devil could urge it.

Ant.  Twenty to one of our side now.

Leo.  Turn Tables,
Beaten like Dogs again, like Owls, you take it
To heart for flying but a mile before ’em;
And to say the truth, ’twas no flight neither, Sir,
’Twas but a walk, a handsome walk,
I have tumbl’d with this old Body, beaten like a Stock-fish,
And stuck with Arrows, like an arming Quiver,
Blouded and bang’d almost a day before ’em,
And glad I have got off then.  Here’s a mad Shaver,
He fights his share I am sure, when e’r he comes to’t;
Yet I have seen him trip it tithly too,
And cry the Devil take the hindmost ever.

Lieu.  I learnt it of my Betters.

Leo.  Boudge at this?

Ant.  Has Fortune but one Face?

Lieu.  In her best Vizard Methinks she looks but lowzily.

Ant.  Chance, though she faint now,
And sink below our expectations,
Is there no hope left strong enough to buoy her?

Dem.  ’Tis not, this day I fled before the Enemy,
And lost my People, left mine Honour murder’d,
My maiden Honour, never to be ransom’d,
(Which to a noble Soul is too too sensible)
Afflicts me with this sadness; most of these,
Time may turn straight again, experience perfect,
And new Swords cut new ways to nobler Fortunes. 
O I have lost—­

Ant.  As you are mine forget it:  I do not think it loss.