Dem. Find such a Souldier will forsake advantage,
And we'll draw off to shew I dare be noble,
And hang a light out to ye in this darkness,
The light of peace; give up those Cities, Forts,
And all those Frontier Countries to our uses.
Sel. Is this the Peace? Traitors to those that feed us, Our Gods and people? give our Countries from us?
Lysi. Begin the Knell, it sounds a great deal sweeter.
Ptol. Let loose your servant, death.
Sel. Fall fate upon us, Our memories shall never stink behind us.
Dem. Seleucus_, great Seleucus.
Sol. The Prince calls, Sir.
Dem. Thou stock of nobleness, and courtesie, Thou Father of the War—
Leo. What means the Prince now?
Dem. Give me my Standard here.