They knew not well whether they lost or wonne.
Attic. This newes is worse then death; Happy were I
If any now could tell me he were dead;
Death is farre sweeter then captiuitie:
My deare Lorenzo! Was it thy desire
To goe to Warre, made thee forsake thy Father,
Countrie, Friends, Life, Libertie? and vndergoe
Death, or Captiuitie, or some disaster
That exceeds ’em both? Yet, howso’er,
Captaine, We thanke thy loue; giue the reward