_Jun._ Yesterday I found those favors infinite. _Dem._ Wench good enough, But that she talks too loud. _Pet._ She talks to th' purpose, Which never Woman did yet: she'll hold grapling, And he that layes on best, is her best servant: All other loves are meer catching of dotrels, Stretching of legs out only, and trim laziness. Here comes the General. [_Enter Swet., Curius, & Macer._ _Swet._ I am glad [I] have found ye: Are those come in yet that pursu'd bold _Caratach_? _Pet._ Not yet Sir, for I think they mean to lodge him; Take him I know they dare not, 'twill be dangerous. _Swet._ Then haste _Petillius_, haste to _Penyus_, I fear the strong conceit of what disgrace Has pull'd upon himself, will be his ruine: I fear his soldiers fury too; haste presently, I would not lose him for all _Britain_. Give him, _Petillius_. _Petill._ That that shall choak him. _Swet._ All the noble counsell, His fault forgiven too, his place, his honor, _Petill._ For me, I think, as handsome. _Swet._ All the comfort. And tell the Soldier, 'twas on our command He drew not to the Battell. _Petill._ I conceive Sir, And will do that shall cure all. _Swet._ Bring him with ye Before the Queens Fort, and his Forces with him, There you shall find us following of our Conquest: Make haste. _Petil._ The best I may. [_Exit._ _Swet._ And noble Gentlemen, Up to your Companies: we'll presently Upon the Queens pursuit: there's nothing done Till she be seiz'd; without her nothing won. [_Exeunt._ [_Short flourish._ _Scæna Secunda._ _Enter_ Caratach _and_ Hengo. _Car._ How does my Boy? _Hen._ I would do well, my heart's well; I do not fear. _Car._ My good Boy. _Hen._ I know, Uncle, We must all dye; my little brother dy'd, I saw him dye, and he dy'd smiling: sure, There's no great pain in't Uncle. But pray tell me, Whither must we go when we are dead? _Car._ Strange questions! Why, to the blessed'st place Boy: ever sweetness And happiness dwells there. _Hen._ Will you come to me? _Car._ Yes, my sweet boy. _Hen._ Mine Aunt too, and my Cosins? _Car._ All, my good child. _Hen._ No _Romans_, Uncle? _Car._ No Boy. _Heng._ I should be loath to meet them there. _Car._ No ill men, That live by violence, and strong oppression, Come thither: 'tis for those the gods love, good men. _Heng._ Why, then I care not when I go; for surely I am perswaded they love me: I never Blasphem'd 'em, Uncle, nor transgrest my parents; I always said my Prayers. _Car._ Thou shalt go then, Indeed thou shalt. _Heng._ When they please. _Car._ That's my good boy. Art thou not weary, _Hengo_?