Leo. Faith, 'twas well done; 'Twas bravely done; was't not a noble part, Sir?
Lieu. Had I been there, up had I gone, I am sure on't; These noble tricks I never durst trust 'em yet.
Leo. Let me not live, and't were not a famed honesty;
It takes me such a tickling way: now would I wish Heaven,
But e'n the happiness, e'n that poor blessing
For all the sharp afflictions thou hast sent me,
But e'n i'th' head o'th' field, to take Seleucus.
I should do something memorable: fie, sad still?
1 Gent. Do you grieve, we are come off?
Dem. Unransom'd, was it?
2 Gent. It was, Sir.
Dem. And with such a fame to me? Said ye not so?
Leo. Ye have heard it.
Dem. O Leontius! Better I had lost 'em all: my self had perish'd, And all my Fathers hopes.
Leo. Mercy upon you;
What ails you, Sir? Death, do not make fools on's,
Neither go to Church, nor tarry at home,
That's a fine Horn-pipe?