Beaumont Fletchers Works, vol 2 | Page 9

Prithee, my best Leucippe, there's much hangs on't, Lodg'd at the end of Mars's street? that's true too; At the sack of such a Town, by such a Souldier Preserv'd a Prisoner: and by Prince Demetrius Bought from that man again, maintain'd and favour'd: How came you by this knowledg?
Leu. Poor, weak man, I have a thousand eyes, when thou art sleeping, Abroad, and full of business.
Men. You never try'd her?
Leu. No, she is beyond my level; so hedg'd in By the Princes infinite Love and Favour to her--
Men. She is a handsome Wench.
Leu. A delicate, and knows it; And out of that proof arms her self.
Men. Come in then; I have a great design from the King to you, And you must work like wax now.
Leu. On this Lady?
Men. On this, and all your wits call home.
Leu. I have done Toys in my time of some note; old as I am, I think my brains will work without barm; Take up the Books.
Men. As we go in, I'le tell ye. [Exeunt.

SCENA IV.
Enter Antigonus, Timon, Lords and a Souldier.
Ant. No face of sorrow for this loss, 'twill choak him, Nor no man miss a friend, I know his nature So deep imprest with grief, for what he has suffer'd, That the least adding to it adds to his ruine; His loss is not so infinite, I hope, Souldier.
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.
Dem. O Sir, forgive me, I have lost my friends, those worthy Souls bred with me, I have lost my self, they were the pieces of me: I have lost all Arts, my Schools are taken from me, Honour and Arms, no emulation left me: I liv'd to see these men lost, look'd upon it: These men that twin'd their loves to mine, their vertues; O shame of shames! I saw and could not save 'em, This carries Sulphur in't, this burns, and boils me, And like a fatal Tomb, bestrides my memory.
Ant. This was hard fortune, but if alive, and taken, 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