_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?