Emp. There's a Ring yet.
Max. This was not made to lose, Sir.
Emp. Some love token;
Set it I say.
Max. I do beseech your Grace,
Rather name any house I have.
Emp. How strange
And curious you are grown of toys! redeem't
If so I win it, when you please, to morrow,
Or next day, as you will, I care not,
But only for my lucks sake; 'tis not Rings
Can make me richer.
Max. Will you throw, Sir? there 'tis.
Emp. Why, then have at it fairly, mine.
Max. Your Grace
Is only ever fortunate; to morrow,
And't be your pleasure, Sir, I'll pay the price on't.
Emp. To morrow you shall have it withou[t] price, Sir,
But this day 'tis my Victory; good Maximus,
Now I bethink my self, go to Æcius,
And bid him muster all the Cohorts presently;
They mutiny for pay I hear, and be you
Assistant to him; when you know their numbers,
Ye shall have monies for 'em, and above,
Something to stop their tongues withal.
Max. I will Sir,
And gods preserve you in this mind still.