Dru. With what, for heavens sake?
Petill. With good counsel, Drusus,
And love, to comfort him.
Dru. Good Regulus
Step to the Soldier, and allay his anger;
For he is wild as winter.
[Exeunt Drusius and Regulus.
Petill. O, are ye there? have at ye. Sure he's dead,
It cannot be he dare out-live this fortune:
He must die, 'tis most necessary; men expect it;
And thought of life in him, goes beyond coward.
Forsake the field so basely? fie upon't:
So poorly to betray his worth; so coldly
To cut all credit from the soldier? sure
If this man mean to live, as I should think it
Beyond belief, he must retire where never
The name of Rome, the voice of Arms, or Honour
Was known or heard of yet: he's certain dead,
Or strongly means it; he's no Soldier else,
No Roman in him; all he has done, but outside,
Fought either drunk or desperate. Now he rises.
How does Lord Penyus?
Pen. As ye see.
Petill. I am glad on't;
Continue so still. The Lord General,
The valiant General, great Swetonius—
Pen. No more of me is spoken; my name's perish'd.
Petill. He that commanded fortune and the day
By his own valour and discretion,
When, as some say, Penyus refused to come,
But I believe 'em not, sent me to see ye.
Pen. Ye are welcome; and pray see me; see me well,
Ye shall not see me long.