The Act 4. Scene 3 - Royal Slave

Leoc. Holla!
Arch. Holla!
Leoc. Archippus ?
Arch. Leocrates ? Ne're be afraid man, 'tis I, the very same.
Leoc. 'Fore Mercury I did not know thee: thy comming forth out of the wood with that raw arme, and those totter'd cloaths, makes thee shew like Actæon , newly reviv'd after his worrying.
Arch. Where's Stratocles , and Philotas ?
Leoc. They're looking Bur-leaves perhaps for Excoriation; or else robbing some Gibbet to accommodate themselves with decent weeds.
Phil. Holla!
Stra. Holla!
Arch. Hearke: I heare 'em; they are hard by; let's answer 'em. Holla!
Stra. O are you there?
Leoc. Save thee Brother Stratocles : Joy to thee Valiant Philotas ; I commend you that you keepe your wordes: I'm glad we are so punctuall.
Stra. D'ye thinke we have no Religion in us? 'tis a most corrupt time, when such as we cannot keepe touch, and be faithfull one to another.
Leoc. But are you sure Cratander will passe by this way?
Arch. My Lord Praxaspes sayes he loves this walke.
Str. But wee've done ill to leave our weapons yonder.
Leoc. Pish! he won't passe by this houre, hee's busie yet: Wee'le fetch 'em as soone as wee can agree who shall doe the deed.
Phil. Who shall doe the deed sayst thou? why thou, or he, or he, or I.
Leoc. Do thou then if thou hast a minde to 't.
Phil. No faith, thou shalt have the whole honour of it to thy selfe; I will not rob thee of an inch of it: I am not envious, Leocrates , not envious.
Leoc. Well; the next Passenger is to decide it then; hee that shall be judg'd the fittest to make a Persian Priest, must do the deed.
Str. What else? dost thou thinke we will be so base, as not to stand to Covenants?
Phil. You have all made your selves very unfit to bee Preists methinkes.
Str. Why so Philotas ? do you not see woodden legs, and Crutches, wry Neckes, and lame Armes, maym'd limbes, and blind sides?
Phil. Good faith, we may be all taken for an Hospitall broke loose.
Arch. And we have wood enough among us to—.
As I hope for Mercy Cratander .—by the ball of
Fortune here hee comes: Soule of my life what shall we doe?
Str. Not a sword, not a knife among us! all left behind us in the wood! that we should be all manicled now, out of a most unlucky Policy! We shall never have him alone againe: make toward him and be hang'd, that hee may resolve the Question howe're.
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