Enter Demetrius, and Physicians, and Gentlemen.

Leo.  Enough, enough Lieutenant, thou hast done bravely.

Dem.  Mirrour of man.

Lieu.  There’s a Flag for ye, Sir, I took it out o’th’ shop, and never paid for’t, I’le to ’em again, I am not come to th’ text yet.

Dem.  No more my Souldier:  beshrew my heart he is hurt sore.

Leo.  Hang him, he’l lick all th^se whole.

1 Phy.  Now will we take him, And Cure him in a trice.

Dem.  Be careful of him.

Lieu.  Let me live but two years,
And do what ye will with me;
I never had but two hours yet of happiness;
Pray ye give me nothing to provoke my valour,
For I am ev’n as weary of this fighting—­

2 Phy.  Ye shall have nothing; come to the Princes Tent And there the Surgions presently shall search ye, Then to your rest.

Lieu.  A little handsome Litter To lay me in, and I shall sleep.

Leo.  Look to him.

Dem.  I do believe a Horse begot this fellow, He never knew his strength yet; they are our own.

Leo.  I think so, I am cozen’d else; I would but see now A way to fetch these off, and save their honours.

Dem.  Only their lives.

Leo.  Pray ye take no way of peace now, Unless it be with infinite advantage.

Dem.  I shall be rul’d; Let the Battels now move forward, Our self will give the signal:  Enter Trumpet and Herald.  Now Herald, what’s your message?

Her.  From my Masters, This honourable courtesie, a Parley For half an hour, no more, Sir.

Dem.  Let ’em come on, They have my Princely word.

Enter Seleucus, Lysimacus, Ptolomie, Attendants, Souldiers.

Her.  They are here to attend ye.

Dem.  Now Princes, your demands?

Sel.  Peace, if it may be Without the too much tainture of our honour:  Peace, and we’l buy it too.

Dem.  At what price?

Lysi.  Tribute.

Ptol.  At all the charge of this War.

Leo.  That will not do.

Sel. Leontius, you and I have serv’d together,
And run through many a Fortune with our swords,
Brothers in Wounds and Health; one meat has fed us,
One Tent a thousand times from cold night cover’d us: 
Our loves have been but one; and had we died then,
One Monument had held our names, and actions: 
Why do you set upon your friends such prices? 
And sacrifice to giddy chance such Trophies? 
Have we forgot to dye? or are our vertues
Less in afflictions constant, than our fortunes? 
Ye are deceiv’d old Souldier.