(SCENE 1.)

Alarum; as the soft musicke begins a peale of ordnance goes off; then Cornetts sound a Battaile; which ended enter Captaine, Master of a ship, Dick Pike, with musketts.

Cap. Fought bravely, countrymen! Honour all this while Sate in a Throne of smoake with sparckling eyes Looking upon your courages & admiring Your resolutions, and now rewards your sweat With victory. The castle groanes at heart; Her strongest ribbs are bruizd with battering Cannons, And she hath tane into her bowells fire Enough to melt her.

Ma. My Lord came bravely up to her & shewd a spirit That commands danger; his honorable example Gave us new hearts.

Sol. Faith, give the Spanyards their due; they entertaind us handsomely with hott meat; 'twas no cold welcome.

Pike. But I would not willingly swallow their plums; they would rise shrewdly in a man's stomacke.

Cap. At the first shott, when the Convertine came in, 3 men were killd.

Ma. At the second 4, was't not?

Cap. At the third two more: one salutation Came so close that, with the very wind, My hands have almost lost the sense of feeling. Jewell, thou mad'st thy muskett spitt fire bravely.

Ma. And my Devonshire blade, honest Dick Pike, Spard not his Sugar pellets among my Spanyards.

Cap. He did like a soldier, as he that chargd his muskett told me: in this service he hath dischargd 70 bulletts.

Pike. I did my part, sir, and wish I had bene able to have layd 'em on thicker; but I have lynd somebodyes gutts, much good doe 'em with it; some of them have wishd well to me.

Cap. Art hurt?

Ma. Where?

Pike. Nowhere; one of my flanckes itches a little; if a piece of lead have crept in to hide it selfe cowardly I am not much in debt for't.

Cap. Let my Surgeons search it.

Pike. Search a pudding for plums; let my flesh alone; perhaps it wants souldering. Shall we to't agen: I have halfe a score pills for my Spanyards—better then purging comfitts.

Enter a Soldier.

Cap. What newes?

Sol. The fort is yielded.

Pike. They have bene speechlesse a good while; I thought they'de yield up the ghost shortly.

Sol. But on condition to march away with flying colours, which was granted.

Cap. What's become of the Captaine of the fort?

Sol. Don Francisco Bustament is carryed aboord our Generalls ship, where he had a soldier like welcome; but he & all his company are put over to Port Reall upon the maine land because they should not succour the Citty.

Cap. Unles he will swim to th'Iland.—And how fares the Convertine?

Sol. Her shroudes are torne to pieces & her tacklings to raggs.

Cap. No matter; she carryes the more honour.

Sol. 5 hundred Bulletts sticke in her sides.

Pike. 'Tis well they scaped her heart, lying all the fight little more than pistoll shott from 'em; her Starboard still to the fort & at least 200 Musketts playing upon her. I wish'd heartily some of our London roaring Boyes[17] had bene in the heate of't.

Sol. Wouldst have 'em twice burnt.

Pike. They should have found a difference betwixt the smoake of Tobacco and of a muskett; another manner of noise than dam me & refuse me[18], which they vomitt dayly. It might have done some of 'em good, for by that meanes they might have prayd heartily once in their lives.

Cap. The Whitehall[19] men did good service.

Ma. Who? the Collyers?

Sol. 4000 Bulletts their ordnance & the Hollanders dischargd upon the Castle.

Cap. 'Twas well done of all sides, Bullyes[20]: but, since our forces are landed, let it be your care to looke well to the Ships: and honest Dick of Devonshire be not too carelesse of your hurts; he meanes to fight againe that provides for his recovery soonest. Hold thee, here is something to pay the Surgeon and to wash your wound withall.

Pike. My noble Captaine, I'le have care of my owne and drinke your health with it.

Ma. Thou deservest more than common encouragement: prithee, remember me too.

[Exeunt Capt. & Mast.

Pike. Why, now am I sorry I have no more hurt, gentlemen; but I tooke it as earnest to receive more if occasion bee. I have but a barrell to bestow among my Dons; while that lasts let 'em come & welcome,—the drinke shalbe spicd to their hands. Their complexions are blacke, they shall want no Balls to wash their faces; if any doe light in their bodies they may chance be scourd all over.

Sol. 2. We may hap to be in the suddes ourselves.

Pike. There will be charges savd then; for my part I am but one, and there are shotts enough.

Sol. 2. More by a score then I hope wilbe payd these two dayes.

Pike. Talke not of paying: here's more then a month comes to. Well, if our service be done, & there be any other liquor to be gott, wele drinke no salt water as long as this lasts.

Sol. 2. Come, let's have a dish to our countrymen & let's remember Tavestock.

Pike. Godamercy for that, boy. A match, a match!

[Exeunt.