Ho, there!—but seek not for the buckler: 'tis100

Too heavy:—a light cuirass and my sword.

Where are the rebels?

Pan.‍Scarce a furlong's length

From the outward wall the fiercest conflict rages.

Sar. Then I may charge on horseback. Sfero, ho!

Order my horse out.—There is space enough

Even in our courts, and by the outer gate,

To marshal half the horsemen of Arabia.

[Exit Sfero for the armour.