off the lustre,
And blot the benefit.

Theo. Are these the welcomes,
The Bells that ring out our rewards? pray heartily,
Early and late, there may be no more Enemies:
Do my good Lord, pray seriously, and sigh too,
For if there be—

Bor. They must be met, and fought with.

Theo. By whom? by you? they must be met and flatter'd.
Why, what a Devil ail'd ye to do these things?
With what assurance dare ye mock men thus?
You have but single lives, and those I take it
A Sword may find too: why do ye dam the Duke up?
And choak that course of love, that like a River
Should fill our empty veins again with comforts?
But if ye use these knick knacks,
This fast and loose, with faithful men and honest,
You'l be the first will find it.

Enter Archas, Souldiers, Putskey, Ancient, and others.

Boros. You are too untemperate.

Theo. Better be so, and thief too, than unthankful:
Pray use this old man so, and then we are paid all.
The Duke thanks ye for your service, and the Court thanks ye,
And wonderful desirous they are to see ye;
Pray Heaven we have room enough to march for May-games,
Pageants, and Bone-fires for your welcome home, Sir.
Here your most noble friend the Lord Boroskie,
A Gentleman too tender of your credit,
And ever in the Dukes ear, for your good, Sir,
Crazie and sickly, yet to be your servant,
Has leapt into the open air to meet ye.

Bor. The best is, your words wound not, you are welcome home, Sir;
Heartily welcome home, and for your service,
The noble overthrow you gave the Enemy,
The Duke salutes ye too with all his thanks, Sir.

Anc. Sure they will now regard us.

Puts. There's a reason:
But by the changing of the Colonels countenance,
The rolling of his eyes like angry Billows;
I fear the wind's not down yet, Ancient.

Anc. Is the Duke well, Sir?

Boros. Not much unhealthy,
Only a little grudging of an Ague,
Which cannot last: he has heard, which makes him fearful,
And loth as yet to give your worth due welcome,
The sickness hath been somewhat hot i'th' Army,
Which happily may prove more doubt than danger,
And more his fear than fate; yet howsoever,
An honest care—

Arch. Ye say right, and it shall be;
For though upon my life 'tis but a rumor,
A meer opinion, without faith or fear in't;
For Sir, I thank Heaven, we never stood more healthy,
Never more high and lusty; yet to satisfie,
We cannot be too curious, or too careful
Of what concerns his state, we'll draw away, Sir,
And lodge at further distance, and less danger.

Boros. It will be well.

Anc. It will be very scurvy:
I smell it out, it stinks abominably,
Stir it no more.

Boros. The Duke, Sir, would have you too,
For a short day or two, retire to your own house,
Whither himself will come to visit ye,
And give ye thanks.

Arch. I shall attend his pleasure.

Anc. A trick, a lousie trick: so ho, a trick Boys.

Arch. How now, what's that?

Anc. I thought I had found a Hare, Sir,
But 'tis a Fox, an old Fox, shall we hunt him?

Arch. No more such words.

Boros. The Souldier's grown too sawcy,
You must tie him straiter up.

Arch. I do my best, Sir;
But men of free-born minds sometimes will flie out.

Anc. May not we see the Duke?

Boros. Not at this time, Gentlemen,
Your General knows the cause.

Anc. We have no Plague, Sir,
Unless it be in our pay, nor no Pox neither;
Or if we had, I hope that good old Courtier
Will not deny us place there.

Puts. Certain my Lord,
Considering what we are, and what we have done;
If not, what need ye may have, 'twould be better,
A great deal nobler, and taste honester
To use us with more sweetness; men that dig
And lash away their lives at the Carts tail,
Double our comforts; meat, and their Masters thanks too,
When they work well, they have; Men of our quality,
When they do well, and venture for't with valour,
Fight hard, lye hard, feed hard, when they come home, Sir,
And know these are deserving things, things worthy,
Can you then blame 'em if their minds a little
Be stir'd with glory? 'tis a pride becomes 'em,
A little season'd with ambition,
To be respected, reckon'd well, and honour'd
For what they have done: when to come home thus poorly,
And met with such unjointed joy, so looked on,
As if we had done no more but drest a Horse well;
So entertain'd, as if, I thank ye Gentlemen,
Take that to drink, had pow'r to please a Souldier?
Where be the shouts, the Bells rung out, the people?
The Prince himself?

Arch. Peace: I perceive your eye, Sir,
Is fixt upon this Captain for his freedom,
And happily you find his tongue too forward;
As I am Master of the place I carry,
'Tis fit I think so too; but were I this man,
No stronger tie upon me, than the truth
And tongue to tell it, I should speak as he do's,
And think with modesty enough, such Saints
That daily thrust their loves and lives through hazards,
And fearless for their Countries peace, march hourly
Through all the doors of death, and know the darkest,
Should better be canoniz'd for their service:
What labour would these men neglect, what danger
Where honour is, though seated in a Billow,
Rising as high as Heaven, would not these Souldiers,
Like to so many Sea-gods charge up to it?
Do you see these swords? times Sythe was ne'er so sharp, Sir;
Nor ever at one harvest mow'd such handfuls:
Thoughts ne'er so sudden, nor belief so sure
When they are drawn, and were it not sometimes
I swim upon their angers to allay 'em,
And like a calm depress their fell intentions;
They are so deadly sure, nature would suffer—
And whose are all these glories? why, their Princes,
Their Countries, and their Friends? Alas, of all these,
And all the happy ends they bring, the blessings,
They only share the labours: A little joy then,
And outside of a welcome, at an upshot
Would not have done amiss, Sir; but howsoever
Between me and my duty, no crack, Sir,
Shall dare appear: I hope by my example
No discontent in them: without doubt Gentlemen,
The Duke will both look suddenly and truly
On your deserts: Methinks 'twere good they were paid, Sir.

Bor. They shall be immediately; I stay for money;
And any favour else—

Arch. We are all bound to ye;
And so I take my leave, Sir; when the Duke pleases
To make me worthy of his eyes—

Bor. Which will be suddenly,
I know his good thoughts to ye.

Arch. With all duty,
And all humility, I shall attend, Sir.

Bor. Once more you are welcome home: these shall be satisfied.

The. Be sure we be: and handsomly.

Arch. Wait you on me, Sir.

The. And honestly: no jugling.

Arch. Will ye come, Sir? [Exit.

Bor. Pray do not doubt.

The. We are no Boys. [Exit.

Enter a Gent. and 2 or 3 with Mony.