(SCENE 3.)

Enter Fernando, bareheaded, talking with the Duke of Macada; Duke Gyron, Medyna, Marquesse d'Alquevezzas; 2 Gen., one with Pikes sword, which is laid on a table; Jaylour, Teniente; Clarke with papers.

Mac. Where's the Teniente?

Clarke. The Duke calls for you.

Ten. Here, my Lord.

Mac. 'Tis the King's pleasure that those fugitives Which basely left the fort should not be honourd With a judiciall tryall, but presently (Both those you have at home & these in Sherrys) To dye by martiall law.

Ten. My Lord, Ile see it done.

Mac. Dispatch the rest here.

Jay. Yes, my Lord; Ile bring them carefully together to end the busines.

Gyr. Bring Bustamente in. [Exit Jaylour.

Mac. My Lords, here's Don Fernando relates to me Two stories full of wonder; one of his daughter, Fam'd for her vertues, faire Eleonora, Accusing Don Henrico, youngest sonne To noble Pedro Guzman, of a rape; Another of the same Henrico's, charging His elder brother Manuell with the murther Of Pedro Guzman, who went late to France.

Gyr. Are all the parties here?

Fer. Yes. [Exit Fernan.

Enter Jaylour, Bustamente, Guard.

Gyr. Bring them in.

Mac. Bustamente, The King, our master, looking with sharpe eyes, Upon your trayterous yeilding up the fort, Putts off your Tryall here; you must abide Longer imprisonment.

Bust. I have allready quitted My selfe, my lord, of that which you call Treason, Which had in any here (he doing the like) Bene a high point of honour.

Alq. These braves[43] cannot serve you.

Gyr. You must not be your owne Judge.

Mac. You gave the English More glory by your base ignoble rendring That fort up then our Nation gott from them In all our undertakings.

Bust. Heare me, my Lords,

Mac. Sir, sir, w'have other anviles; Bustamente, Prepare your selfe for death.

Bust. For all my service!

All. Take him away!

Bust. You are Lyons & I your prey.

[Exit with Jaylour.

Mac. Which are Don Pedro's sons?

Enter Fernando, Henrico, Manuell.

Fer. These two.

Mac. Which youngest?

Hen. I, my Lord.

Enter Jaylour.

Mac. You charge this Gentleman, your elder brother, With murther of your father.

Hen. Which I can prove.

Mac. And hither flyes a ravisht Ladyes voice To charge you with a Rape; the wronged Daughter Of this most noble Gentleman.

Hen. Let them prove that

Mac. These accusations & the proofes shall meete Here face to face, in th' afternoone. Meantime Pray, Don Fernando, let it be your care To see these gentlemen attended on By a strong guard.

Fer. The wrongs done to my selfe Work me, my lord, to that.

Man. I would your Grace would heare me speake a little.

All. You shall have time.

Med. Take them away, And at their Tryall have the Lady here.

[Ex. Fer., Hen., Man., & Jaylour.

Gyr. Where is the Englishman?

Clarke. The Englishman!

Alq. What do you call him? Dick of Devonshire?

Med. Because he is a soldier let him have A soldier's honour; bring him from his prison Full in the face of the whole Towne of Sherrys, With drums and musketts.

Mac. How many soldiers are in the Towne?

Clarke. 5000.

Med. Let 200 march hither along with him as his guard: where's the Teniente?

Ten. Here, my Lord.

Med. Pray, see this done & in good order.

Ten. I shall. [Exit.

Enter Don John below.

Gyr. What makes Don John here? Oh, now I remember: You come against the Englishman.

Jo. Yes, my Lord.

Enter his Lady and a Gentlewoman above.

Mac. Give me the Note there of the English advertisements.

[They all conferre.

Lady. Here may we see & heare: poore Englishman! Sadnes! I cast on thee a noble pitty, A pitty mixt with sorrow that my Husband Has drawne him to this misery, to whom The soldier gave life being at his mercy.

Gent. Twas bravely done, no doubt he'le speed the better For his mind.

Lady. I visited him in prison, And did with much adoe win from Don John This journey, for I vowd to see th'event How they will deale with him.

Gent. I hope most fairely.

Enter 2 drums, Teniente, divers musketts, Fernando with Pike (without band, an Iron about his necke, 2 Chaines manackling his wrists, a great chaine at his heeles); Jaylour, 3 or 4 halberts. A Barre sett out.

Clarke. Silence!

Mac. You see how much our Spanish soldiers love you To give this brave attendance; though your Nation Fought us & came to hunt us to our deathes.

Pike. My Lords, this, which in shew is brave attendance And love to me, is the worldes posture right, Where one man's falling downe setts up another. My sorrowes are their triumphes; so in kings courts, When officers are thrust out of their roomes, Others leape laughing in while they doe mourne. I am at your mercy.

Mac. Sirra Englishman, Know you that weapon?—reach it him.

Pike. Yes, it Was once mine; and drawes teares from me to think How 'twas forced from me.

Mac. How many Spanyards Killd you with that sword?

Pike. Had I killd one This Barre had nere bene guilty of my pleading Before such Princely Judges: there stands the man.

Gyr. Don John, sett he on you or you on him?

Jo. He upon me first.

Pike. Let me then be torne Into a thousand pieces.

Lady. My Husband speaks untruth.

Alq. Sett he on you first? more coward you to suffer an enemy be aforehand.

Pike. Indeed in England my countrymen are good at bidding stand; but I was not now upon a robbery but a defence, sett round with a thousand dangers. He sett upon me; I had him at my feete, sav'd him, and for my labour was after basely hurt by him.

Fer. This was examined by me, my Lords; And Don John, thus accusd, was much ashamd Of his unmanly dealing.

Gyr. He may be now soe.

Lady. I blush for him my selfe.

Alq. Disgrace to Spanyards!

Mac. Sirra, you English, what was the ship you came in?

Pike. The Convertine.

Mac. What Ordnance did she carry?

Pike. 40 peeces.

Gyr. No, sir, but 38; see here, my Lord.

Alq. Right, no more then 38.

Mac. Your fort at Plymouth strong?

Pike. Yes, very strong.

Mac. What Ordnance in't?

Pike. 50 Peeces.

Gyr. Oh fye, doe not belye your country; there's not so many.

Alq. How many soldiers keepe you in that fort?

Pike. 200.

Mac. Much about such a number.—There is a little iland before Plymouth: What strength is that of?

Pike. I doe not know.

Gyr. We doe, then.

Alq. Is Plymouth a walld Towne?

Pike. Yes, it is walld.

Mac. And a good wall?

Pike. A very good strong wall.

Gyr. True tis a good strong wall, and built so high One with a leape staffe may leape over it.

Mac. Why did not your good navy, being in such bravery, As it tooke Puntall seize Cales?

Pike. Our Generall Might easily have tane it, for he had Almost a thousand scaling ladders to sett up; And without mayme to's army he might loose A thousand men: but he was loath to robb An almes-house when he had a richer market To buy a conquest in.

Mac. What was that market?

Pike. Genoa or Lisbon: wherefore should we venture Our lives to catch the wind, or to gett knockes And nothing else. [They consult.

Mac. A poast with speed, to Lisbon, And see't well mand.

Ten. One shalbe sent, my Lord.

[Exit. The soldiers laugh.

Alq. How now, why is this laughter?

Fer. One of the soldiers, being merry among themselves, is somewhat bold with th'English, and sayes th'are dainty Hennes.

All. [Alq.?] Hens! ha, ha, ha!

Mac. Sirra, view well these soldiers, And freely telle us, thinke you these will prove Such hens as are your English, when next yeare They land in your owne Country.

Pike. I thinke they will not, My lord, prove hens, but somewhat neere to hens.

Mac. How mean'st thou?

Pike. Let my speech breed no offence: I thinke they would prove pulletts.

Gyr. Dar'st thou fight With any one of these our Spanish pulletts?

Pike. What heart have I to fight when tis beaten flatt To earth with sad afflictions? can a prisoner Glory in playing the Fencer? my life's at stake Allready; can I putt it in for more? Our army was some 14000 men Of which more than 12000 had spirits so high Mine never shall come neere them: would some of them Were here to feed your expectations! Yet, silly as I am, having faire pardon From all your Graces and your Greatnesses, Ile try if I have strength in this chayned arme To breake a rapier.

Mac. Knock off all his gyves; And he that has a stomacke for Spaines honour To combate with this Englishman, appeare.

Pike. May he be never calld an Englishman That dares not looke a divell in the face, [One stepps forth. Come he in face of man, come how he can.

Mac. Your name?

Tia. Tiago.

All. Well done Tiago.

Mac. Let drums beate all the time they fight.

Lady. I pray for thee.

Gent. And I.

[They fight: Pike disarmes & tripps him downe.

Pike. Onely a Devonshire hugg, sir:—at your feete I lay my winnings.

Tia. Diable!

[Exit, biting his thumb[44]; the soldiers stampe.

Gyr. Wilt venter on oanother?

Pike. I beseech you To pardon me, and taske me to no more.

Alq. Come, come, one more; looke you, here's a young Cockerell[45] Comes crowing into the pitt. [Another steps in.

All. Prithee, fight with him.

Pike. I'me in the Lyon's gripe & to gett from him There's but one way; that's death.

Mac. English, What say you? will you fight or no?

Pike. Ile fight.

All. Give 'em roome! make way there!

Pike. Ile fight till every Joynt be cutt in pieces To please such brave spectators; yes Ile fight While I can stand, be you but pleasd, my Lords, The noble Dukes here, to allow me choice Of my owne Country weapon.

All. What?

Pike. A Quarter staffe,—this, were the head off.

Mac. Off with the head, and roome! How dost thou like this Spaniard?

Pike. Well: he's welcome. Here's my old trusty frend: are there no more? One! what, but one? why, I shall make no play, No sport before my princely Judges with one. More sackes to the Mill! come, another! what, no more?

Mac. How many wouldst thou have?

Pike. Any number under six.

All. Ha, ha, sure he's mad!

Mac. Dar'st coape with Three?

Pike. Where are they? let 'em shew their faces: so; welcome!

Mac. How dost thou like these chickens?

Pike. When I have drest them With sorrell sopps Ile tell you.

Lady. Now guard him heaven!

[Drums. They fight, one is killd, the other 2 disarmed.

1. Hell take thy Quarter staffe!

2. Pox on thy quarters!

Mac. The matter? why this noyse?

[A noyse within of Diable Englese.

Jay. The soldiers rayle, stampe & stare, and sweare to cutt His throat for all the Jaylors care of him.

Mac. Make proclamation, my lord Fernando, That who soever dares but touch his finger To hurt him, dyes.

Fer. I will, sir. [Exit.

Lady. This is done nobly.

Mac. Here, give him this gold.

Ten. The Duke Macada gives you this gold.

All. And this.

Ten. The Duke of Medina this; Duke Gyron this; &, looke you, the Marquesse Alqueveza as much as all the rest.

Alq. Where's any of my men? give him your Cloake, sirra; Fetch him cleane Band and Cuffs. I embrace thee, Pike; And hugg thee in my armes: scorne not to weare A Spanish livery.

Pike. Oh, my Lord, I am proud of't.

Mac. He shalbe with a Convoy sent to the King.

Alq. 4 of my gentlemen shall along with him: Ile beare thy charges, soldier, to Madrid, 5 peeces of 8 a day in travell, & Lying still thou shalt have halfe that.

Pike. On my knees Your vassaile thankes heaven, you, and these Princes.

Mac. Breake up the Court till afternoon: then the 2 Guzmans tryall.

All. Come, Englishman.

Med. How we honour valour thus our loves epresse: Thou hast a guard of Dukes and Marquesses.

[Exeunt all.

Actus Quintus.