The Scene Malta. (continued 2)

Mount. THe Sun's not set yet? Roc. No Sir. Mount. Would it were, Never to rise again to light the world. And yet, to what vain purpose do I wish it. Since though I were inviron'd with thick mists, Black as Cymerian darkness, or my crimes, There is that here, upon which as an anvile Ten thousand hammers strike, and every spark They force from it, to me's an other Sun To light me to my shame? Roc. Take hope, and comfort. Mount. They are aides indeed, but yet as far from me, As I from being innocent: this cave fashion'd By provident nature, in this solid Rock To be a den for beasts, alone, receives me, And having prov'd an enemy to mankind, All humane helps forsake me. Roc. I'll nee'r leave you, And wish you would call back that noble courage That old invincible fortitude of yours That us'd to shrink at nothing. Mount. Then it did not. But 'twas when I was honest; then in the height Of all my happiness, of all my glories, Of all delights, that made life pretious to me I durst dye Rocca; death it self then to me Was nothing terrible, because I knew, The fame of a good Knight would ever live Fresh on my memory; but since I fell From my integrity, and dismis'd those guards, Those strong assurances of innocence, That constancy fled from me, and what's worse, Now I am loathsome to my self; and life A burthen to me, rack'd with sad remembrance Of what I have done, and my present horrors Unsufferable to me, tortur'd with despair That I shall nee'r find mercy: hell about me, Behind me, and before me, yet I dare not, Still fearing worse, put off my wretched Being.

Roc. To see this would deter a doubtful man From mischievous intents, much more the practice Of what is wicked: here's the Moore, look up Sir, Some ease may come from her. Mount. New trouble rather, And I expect it. Abd. Who is this? Mountferrat? Rise up for shame, and like a river dri'd up With a long drought, from me, your bounteous Sea Receive those tides of comfort that flow to you; If ever I look[t] lovely: if desert. Could ever challenge welcome; if revenge, And unexpected wreak, were ever pleasing Or could endear the giver of such blessings, All these I come adorn'd with, and, as due, Make challenge of those so long wish'd embraces Which you (unkind) have hitherto deny'd me. Mount. Why, what have you done for me? Abd. Made Gomera As truely miserable, as you thought him happy, Could you wish more? Mount. As if his sickness could Recover me; the injuries I receiv'd Were Oriana's. Abd. She has paid dear for 'em, She's dead. Mount. How? Abd. Dead; my hate could reach no farther: Taking advantage of her in a swoon, Under pretence to give a Cordial to her I poyson'd her: what stupid dulness is this? What you should entertain with sacrifice, Can you receive so coldly? Mount. Bloody deeds Are grateful offerings, pleasing to the devill, And thou, in thy black shape, and bla[c]ker actions Being hels perfect character, art delighted To do what I thought infinitely wicked, Tremble to hear: thou hast, in this taen from me All means to make amends with penitence, To her wrong'd virtues, and dispoil'd me of The poor remainder of that hope was left me, For all I have already, or must suffer. Abd. I did it for the best. Mount. For thy worst ends, And be assur'd but that, I think to kill thee Would but prevent, what thy despair must force thee To do unto thy self, and so to add to Thy most assur'd damnation, thou wert dead now. But get thee from my sight: and if lust of me Did ever fire thee (love I cannot call it) Leap down from those steep Rocks, or take advantage Of the next tree to hang thy self, and then I may laugh at it. Abd. In the mean time I must be bold, to do so much for you, ha, ha. Mount. Why grinst thou, devil? Abd. That 'tis in my power, To punish thy ingratitude; I made trial But how you stood affected, and since I know I'm us'd only for a property, I can, and will revenge it to the full. For understand, in thy contempt of me, Those hopes of Oriana, which I could Have chang'd to certainties, are lost for ever. Mount. Why, lives she? Abd. Yes, but never to Mountferrat, Although it is in me, with as much ease To give her freely up to thy possession, As to remove this rush; which yet despair of: For by [my] much wrong'd love, flattery, nor threats, Tears, prayers, nor vowes, shall ever win me to it: So with my curse I leave thee. Mount. Prethee stay, Thou know'st I dote on thee, and yet thou art So peevish, and perverse, so apt to take Triffles unkindly from me. Abd. To perswade me To break my neck, to hang, then damn my self, With you are trifles. Mount. 'Twas my melancholy That made me speak I know not what: forgive, I will redeem my fault. Roc. Believe him Lady. Mount. A thousand times I will demand thy pardon, And keep the reckoning on thy lips with kisses. Abd. There's something else, that would prevail more with me. Mount. Thou shalt have all thy wishes do but bless me With means to satisfie my mad desires For once in Oriana and for ever I am thine, only thine my best Abdella. Abd. Were I assur'd of this, and that you would Having enjoy'd her— Mount. Any thing: make choice of Thine own conditions. Abd. Swear then, that perform'd, (To free me from all doubts and fears hereafter) To give me leave to kill her. Mount. That our safety Must of necessity urge us to. Abd. Then know It was not poyson, but a sleeping potion Which she receiv'd; yet of sufficient strength So to bind up her sences, that no sign Of life appear'd in her: and thus thought dead, In her best habit, as the custom is You know in Malta, with all ceremonies She's buried in her families monument, In the Temple of St. John; I'll bring you thither, Thus, as you are disguis'd; some six hours hence The potion will leave working. Roc. Let us haste then. Mount. Be my good angel, guide me. Abd. But remember, You keep your Oath. Mount. As I desire to prosper In what I undertake. Abd. I ask no more. [Exeunt.

Col. Here sir, I have got the Key; I borrow'd it Of him that keeps the Church, the door is open. Mir. Look to the horses then, and please the fellow. After a few devotions, I'll retire. Be not far off, there may be some use of ye, Give me the light: come friend, a few good prayers Were not bestow'd in vain now, even from you Sir. Men that are bred in blood, have no way left 'em, No bath, no purge, no time to wear it out Or wash it off, but penitence, and prayer: I am to take the order, and my youth Loaden I must confess with many follies, Circled and bound about with sins as many As in the house of memory live figures. My heart I'll open now, my faults confess, And raise a new man, heaven, I hope, to a new life. Nor. I have no great devotion, at this instant, But for a prayer or two, I will not out Sir, Hold up your finger, when you have pray'd enough. Mir. Go you to that end.

Ori. Oh, oh. Nor. What's that Sir? did ye hear? Mir. Ha; to your prayers. Nor. 'Twas here abouts, t'has put me clean aw[r]y now, I shall nee'r get in again, ha, by Land, And water, all children, and all women, I there it was I left. Ori. Oh, oh. Nor. Never tell me Sir, Here's something got amongst us. Mir. I heard a groan: A dismal one,— Ori. Oh, oh. Nor. Here, 'tis here Sir, 'tis here Sir; A devil in the wall. Mir. 'Tis some illusion To fright us from devotion— Ori. Oh, oh. Nor. Why 'tis here, The spirit of a huntesman choak'd with butter: Here's a new tomb, new trickments too. Mir. For certain, This has not been three days here. Nor. And a Tablet With rimes upon't. Mir. I prethee read 'em Norandine. Nor. An Epi—and Epi—taff. I think 'tis, I 'tis taff, an Epitaff. Upon the most excell, excell—lent—and. Mir. Thou canst not read. Nor. I have spoyl'd mine eyes with gunpowder. Mir. An Epitaph upon the most virtuous, and excellent Lady The honor of Chastity, Oriana. Nor. The grand masters sister: how a devil came she here? When slipt she out o'th'way, the stone's but half upon her. Mir. 'Tis a sodain change: certain the mischief Mountferrat offer'd to her broak her heart-strings. Nor. Would he were here, I would be the clerk my self, And by this little light, I would bury him alive here: Here's no lamenting now. Ori. Oh, oh. Nor. There 'tis. Mir. Sure from the monument, the very stone groanes for her. Oh, dear Lady: blessing of women, virtue of thy sex; How art thou set for ever, how stol'n from us. Babling, and prating now converse with women. Nor. Sir, it rises, it looks up. [She rises up. Mir. Heaven bless us. Nor. It is in womans cloathes, it rises higher. Mir. It looks about, and wonders, sure she lives Sir. 'Tis she, 'tis Oriana, 'tis that Lady. Nor. Shall I go to her? Ori. Where am I! Mir. Stand still. Ori. What place is this? Nor. She is as live as I am. Ori. What smell of earth, and rotten bones, what dark place? Lord, whither am I carried? Nor. How she stares, And sets her eyes upon him. Mir. How is't dear Lady? Do you know me, how she shakes! Ori. You are a man. Mir. A man that honors you. Ori. A cruel man, Ye are all cruel: are you in your grave too? For there's no trusting cruel man, above ground. Nor. Byr'Lady that goes hard. Mir. To do you service And to restore ye to the joys you were in. Ori. I was in joyes indeed, and hope— Mir. She sinks again Again she's gone; she's gone: gone as a shadow, She sinks for ever, friend. Nor. She is cold now, She is certainly departed, I must cry too. Mir. The blessed angels guide thee: put the stone too, Beauty thou art gone to dust, goodness to ashes. Nor. Pray take it well: we must all have our hours Sir. Mir. I, thus we are; and all our painted glory, A buble that a boy blows in to th' ayr, And there it breaks. Nor. I am glad ye sav'd her honor yet. Mir. Would I had sav'd her life now too: oh heaven For such a blessing, such a timely blessing O friend, what dear content 'twould be, what story To keep my name from worms! Ori. Oh, oh. Nor. She lives again. 'Twas but a trance. Mir. Pray ye call my man in presently Help with the stone first, oh she stirs again. Oh call my man away. Nor. I fly, I fly Sir. Mir. Upon my knees O heaven, O heaven I thank thee.

The living heat steals into every member; Come help the Coffin out softly, and sodainly; Where is the Clerk? Col. Drunk above he is sure Sir. Mir. Sirrah, you must be secret. Col. As your soul Sir. Mir. Softly good friend, take her into your armes. Nor. Put in the crust again. Mir. And bring her out there when I am a horseback My man, and I will tenderly conduct her Unto the Fort; stay you, and watch what issue, And what inquirie's for the body. Nor. Well Sir. Mir. And when ye have done, come back to me. Nor. I will. Mir. Softly, oh softly. Nor. She grows warmer still Sir. Col. What shall I do with the Key? Mir. Thou canst not stir now, Leave it ith'door, go get the horses ready. [Exeunt.

Roc. The door's already open, the Key in it. Mount. What were those past by? Roc. Some scout of Soldiers, I think. Mount. It may well be so, for I saw their horses: They saw not us I hope. Abd. No, no, we were close, Beside they were far off. Mount. What time of night is't? Abd. Much about twelve I think. Roc. Let me go in first For by the leaving open of the door here There may be some body in the Church: give me the Lanthorne. Abd. You'll love me now I hope. Mount. Make that good to me Your promise is engaged for. Abd. Why she is there Ready prepar'd, and much about this time Life will look up again. Roc. Come in all's sure, Not a foot stirring, nor a tongue. Mount. Heaven bless me, I never enter'd with such unholy thoughts This place before. Abd. Ye are a fearful fool, If men have appetites allow'd 'em, And warm desires, are there not ends too for 'em? Mount. Whether shall we carry her? Roc. Why, to the bark, Sir, I have provided one already waits us; The wind stands wondrous fair too for our passage. A[b]d. And there when ye have enjoy'd her, for ye have that liberty Let me alone to send her to feed fishes: I'll no more sighs for her. Mount. Where is the monument? Thou art sure she will awake about this time? Abd. Most sure, if she be not knockt oth'head: give me the Lanthorn, Here 'tis, how is this, the stone off? Roc. I, and nothing Within the monument, that's worse; no body I am sure of that, nor sign of any here, But an empty Coffin. Mount. No Lady? Roc. No, nor Lord Sir, This Pye has been cut up before. Abd. Either the Devil Must do these tricks— Mount. Or thou, damn'd one, worse; Thou black swoln pitchy cloud, of all my afflictions: Thou night hag, gotten when the bright Moon suffer'd: Thou hell it self confin'd in flesh: what trick now? Tell me, and tell me quickly what thy mischief Has done with her, and to what end, and whether Thou hast remov'd her body, or by this holy place This Sword shall cut thee into thousand pieces, A thousand thousand, strow thee ore the Temple A sacrifice to thy black sire, the Devil. Ro[c]. Tell him, you see he's angry. Abd. Let him burst, Neither his sword, nor anger do I shake at, Nor will yield to feed his poor suspitions, His idle jealousies, and mad dogs heats One thought against my self: ye have done a brave deed; A manly, and a valiant piece of Service: When ye have kill'd me, reckon't amongst your Battels; I am sorry ye are so poor, so weak a Gentleman, Able to stand no fortune: I dispose of her? My mischief make her away? a likely project, I must play booty against my self, if any thing cross ye, I am the devil, and the devils heir, All plagues, all mischiefs. Mount. Will ye leave and do yet? Ab. I have done too much, Far, far too much, for such a thankless fellow, If I be devil, you created me; I never knew those arts, nor bloody practises (—— o'your cunning heart, that mine of mischief) Before your flatteries won 'em into me. Here did I leave her, leave her with that certainty About this hour to wake again. Mount. Where is she? This is the last demand. Ab. Did I now know it, And were I sure, this were my latest minute, I would not tell thee: strike, and then I'll curse thee: Roc. I see a light, stand close, and leave your angers. We all miscarry else.

Ab. I am now careless. Mount. Peace, prethee peace, sweet, peace, all friends. Abd. Stand close then. Gom. Wait there Boy, with the light, till I call to thee: In darkness was my soul and sences clouded When my fair Jewel fell, the night of jealousie, In all her blackness drawn about my judgment: No light was let into me, to distinguish Betwixt my suddain anger and her honor, A blind sad Pilgrimage shall be my pennance, No comfort of the day will I look up at: Far darker than my jealous Ignorance Each place of my aboad shall be my prayers No ceremonious lights shall set off more: Bright Armes, and all that carry lustre, life, Society, and solace, I forsake ye. And were it not once more to see her beauties, (For in her bed of death, she must be sweet still,) And on her cold sad lips seal my repentance; Thou child of heaven, fair light I could not miss thee. Mount. I know the tongue, would I were out again, I have done him too much wrong to look upon him. Ab. There is no shifting now, boldness, and confidence Must carry it now away: he is but one neither, Naked as you are, of a strength far under. Mount. But he has a cause above me. Ab. That's as you handle it. Roc. Peace: he may go again, and never see us. Gom. I feel I weep apace, but where's the flood, The torrent of my tears, to drown my fault in? I would I could now, like a loaden cloud, Begotten in the moist south, drop to nothing. Give me the Torch, Boy. Roc. Now he must discover us. Ab. He has already, never hide your head Be bold and brave, if we must dye together. Gom. Who's there? what friend to sorrow? The Tomb wide open The Stone off too? the body gone, by —— Look to the door Boy: keep it fast, who are ye? What sacrilegious villains? false Mountferrat, The woolf to honor, has thy hellish hunger, Brought thee to tear the body out oth'tomb too? Has thy foul mind so far wrought on thee? ha, Are you there too? nay, then I spie a villany I never dream'd of yet, thou sinful usher Bred from that rottenness, th[ou] bawd to mischief, Do you blush through all your blackness? will not that hide it? Ab. I cannot speak. Gom. You are well met, with your dam, Sir, Art thou a Knight? did ever on that sword, The Christian cause sit nobly? could that hand fight, Guided by fame, and fortune? that heart inflame thee, With virtuous fires of valor, to fall off, Fall off so suddainly, and with such foulness, As the false Angels did, from all their glory? Thou art no Knight, honor thou never heard'st of, Nor brave desires could ever build in that breast. Treason, and tainted thoughts, are all the Gods Thou worship'st, all the strength thou hadst, and fortune; Thou didst things out of fear, and false heart, villain Out of close traps and treacheries, they have raised thee. Mount. Thou rav'st old man. Gom. Before thou get'st off from me, Hadst thou the glory of thy first fi[gh]ts on thee Which thou hast basely lost, thy noblest fortunes, And in their greatest lustres, I would make thee, Before we part, confess, nay, kneel, and do it, Nay, crying kneel, coldly, for mercy, crying: Thou art the recreant'st Rogue, time ever nourished, stav'd, Thou art a dog, I will make thee swear, a dog A mangy Cur-dog; do you creep behind the Altar? Look how it sweats, to shelter such a rascall; First, with thy venemous tooth infect her chast life, And then not dare to do; next, rob her rest, Steal her dead body out oth'grave. Mount. I have not. Gom. Prethee come out, this is no place to quarrel in, Valiant Mountferrat come. Mount. I will not stir. Gom. Thou hast thy sword about thee, That good sword, that never faill'd thee: prethee come, We'll have but five stroaks for it; on, on Boy, Here's one would fain be acquainted with thee, Would wondrous fain cleave that Calves-head of yours Sir, Come, prethee let's dispatch, the Moon shines finely: Prethee be kill'd by me, thou wilt be hang'd else, But it may be, thou long'st to be hang'd. Roc. Out with him, Sir, You shall have my sword too: when he's dispatch'd once, We have the world before us. Gom. Wilt thou walk fellow, I never knew a Rogue, hang arse-ward so, And such a desperate knave too. Ab. Pray go with him, Something I'll promise too. Mount. You would be kill'd then? No remedy; I see. Gom. If thou dar'st do it? Mount. Yes, now I dare; lead out, I'll follow presently Under the Mount I'll meet ye. Gom. Go before me, I'll have ye in a string too. Mount. As I am a Gentleman, And by this holy place I will not fail thee, Fear not, thou shalt be kill'd, take my word for it I will not fail. Gom. If thou scap'st thou hast Cats luck. The Mount? Mount. The same: make hast, I am there before else. Gom. Go get ye home; now if he scape I am a Coward. Mount. Well, now I am resolv'd, and he shall find it.

Mir. How is it with the Lady? Luc. Sir, as well As it can be with one, who feeling knowes now What is the curse the divine justice lay'd On the first sinful woman. Mir. Is she in travel? Luc. Yes sir; and yet the troubles of her mind Afflict her more, than what her body suffers, For in the extremity of her pain, she cryes out, Why am I here? Where is my Lord Gomera, Then sometimes names Miranda, and then sighes, As if to speak, what questionless she loves well, If heard, mig[ht] do her injury. Col. Heavens sweet mercy Look gently on her. Mir. Prethee tell her, my Prayers Are present with her, and good wench provide That she want nothing: what's thy name? Luc. Lucinda. Mir. Lucinda? there's a prosperous omen in it, Be a Lucinda to her, and bring word That she is safe delivered of her burthen, And thy reward's thy liberty: come Collonna, We will go see how th'Engineer has mounted The Cannon the great Master sent, be careful To view the works, and learn the discipline That is us'd here: I am to leave the world And for your service, which I have found faithful, The charge that's mine, if I have any power Hereafter may concern you. Col. I still find A noble Master in you. Mir. 'Tis but justice, Thou do'st deserve it in thy care, and duty. [Exeunt.

Gom. Here's even ground, I'll stir no foot beyond it, Before I have thy head. Mount. Draw Rocca. Gom. Coward, Hath inward guilt, robb'd thee as well of courage As honesty? that without odds thou dar'st not Answer a single Enemy? Mount. All advantage That I can take, expect. Roc. We know you are valiant, Nor do we purpose to make farther trial Of what you can do now: but to dispatch you. Mount. And therefore fight, and pray together. Gom. Villains, Whose baseness, all disgraceful words made one, Cannot express; so strong is the good cause That seconds me, that you shall feel, with horror To your proud hopes, what strength is in that arm, Though old, that holds a sword made sharp by justice. Ab. You come then here, to prate? [Fight. Mount. Help Rocca, now, Or I am lost for ever; how comes this? Are villany and weakness twyns? Roc. I am gone too. Gom. You shall not scape me, wretches. Ab. I must do it, All will go wrong else. [Shoots him. [G]om. Treacherous bloody woman, What hast thou done? Ab. Done a poor womans part, And in an instant, what these men so long Stood fooling for. Mount. This ayd was unexpected, I kiss thee for't. Roc. His right arms only shot, And that compell'd him to forsake his sword, He's else unwounded. Mount. Cut his throat. Ab. Forbear. Yet do not hope 'tis with intent to save thee. But that thou mayst live to thy farther torment, To see who triumphs over thee: come Mountferrat, Here join thy foot to mine, and let our hearts Meet with our hands, the contract that is made And cemented with blood, as this of ours is, Is a more holy sanction, and much surer, Than all the superstitious ceremonies You Christians use.

Roc. Who's this? Mount. Betray'd again? Nor. By the report it made, and by the wind The Pistol was discharg'd here. Gom. Norandine. As ever thou lov'st valor, or wear'st Arms To punish baseness, shew it. Nor. O the devil, Gomera wounded, and my Brache black beauty An actor in it? Ab. If thou strik'st, I'll shoot thee. Nor. How? fright me with your Pot-gun? what art thou? Good heaven, the Rogue, the traytor rogue Mountferrat, To swinge the nest of you, is a sport unlook'd for, Hels —— consume you. Mount. As thou art a man, I am wounded, give me time to answer thee. Gom. Durst thou urge this? this hand can hold a sword yet. Nor. Well done: to see this villain, makes my hurts Bleed fresh again, but had I not a bone whole, In such a cause I should do thus, thus Rascals.

Cor. Disarm them, and shoot any that resists. Gom. Hold Corporal; I am Gomera. Nor. 'Tis well yet, that once in an age you can Remember what you watch for: I had thought You had again been making out your parties For sucking piggs. 'Tis well: As you will answer The contrary with your lives, see these forth coming. Cor. That we shall do. Nor. You bleed apace: good Soldiers Go help him to a Surgeon. Roc. Dare the worst, And suffer like your self. Ab. From me learn courage. Nor. Now for Miranda, this news will be to him As welcome as 'tis unexpected: Corporal, There's something for thy care to night; my horse there. [Exeunt.

Ori. HOw do's my Boy? Luc. Oh, wondrous lusty Madam, A little Knight already: you shall live To see him toss a Turk. Ori. Gentle Lucinda, Much must I thank thee for thy care, and service.

And may I grow but strong to see Valetta, My husband, and my brother, thou shalt find I will not barely thank thee. Mir. Look Captain, we must ride away this morning The Auberge sits to day, and the great Master Writes plainly, I must or deliver in (The year expir'd) my probation weed, Or take the Cloak: you likewise Norandine For your full service, and your last assistance In false Mountferrats apprehension Are here commanded to associate me; my twin in this high honor.

Mir. Collonna, provide strait, all necessaries For this remove, the Lytter for the Lady, And let Lucinda bear her company, You shall attend on me. Col. With all my duties. [Exit. Mir. How fare you gracious Mistriss? Ori. O Miranda. You pleas'd to honor me with that fair title When I was free, and could dispose my self; But now, no smile, no word, no look, no touch Can I impart to any, but as theft From my Gomera, and who dares accept, Is an usurper. Mir. Leave us; I have touch'd thee, (Thou fairer virtue, than thou'rt beautiful) Hold but this test, so rich an ore was never

Tryed by the hand of man, on the vast earth: Sit brightest Oriana, is it sin Still to profess I love you, still to vow I shall do ever? heaven my witness be, 'Tis not your eye, your cheek, your tongue, no part That superficially doth snare young men, Which has caught me; read over in your thoughts The story that this man hath made of you, And think upon his merit. Ori. Only thought Can comprehend it. Mir. And can you be so Cruel, thankless, to destroy his youth That say'd your honor, gave you double life? Your own, and your fair Infants? that when fortune (The blind foe to all beauty, that is good,) Bandied you from one hazard to another, Was even heavens Messenger, by providence Call'd to the Temple, to receive you there, Into these Arms, to give ease to your throwes, As if't had thunder'd; take thy due Miranda, For she was thine; Gomera's jealousie Struck death unto thy heart; to him be dead, And live to me, that gave thee second life: Let me but now enjoy thee: Oh regard The torturing fires of my affections. Ori. Oh master them, Miranda, as I mine; Who follows his desires, such tyrants serves As will oppress him insupportably. My flames, Miranda, rise as high as thine, For I did love thee 'fore my marriage, Yet would I now consent, or could I think Thou wert in earnest, (which by all the souls That have (for chastity) been sanctified I cannot) in a moment I do know Thou'ldst call fair temperance up to rule thy blood, Thy eye was ever chaste, thy countenance too honest, And all thy wooings was like Maidens talk; Who yieldeth unto pleasures, and to lust Is a poor captive, that in Golden Fetters (And pretious (as he thinks) but holding gyves) Frets out his life. Mir. Find such another woman, And take her for his labour, any man: Ori. I was not worthy of thee, at my best, Heaven knew I was not, I had had thee else; Much less now gentle Sir; Miranda's deeds Have been as white as Oriana's fame, From the beginning to this point of time, And shall we now begin to stain both thus? Think on the legend which we two shall breed Continuing as we are, for chastest dames And boldest Soldiers to peruse and read, I and read thorough, free from any act To cause the modest cast the book away, And the most honour'd Captain fold it up. Mir. Fairest; let go my hand: my pulse beats thick, And my mov'd blood, rides high in every vain, Lord of thy self now, Soldier, and ever: I would not for Aleppo, this frail Bark, This bark of flesh, no better steers-man had Than has Mountferrat's: may you kiss me, Lady? Ori. No; though't be no essential injury, It is a circumstance due to my Lord, To none else: and my dearest friend, if hands Playing together, kindle heat in you, What may the game at Lips provoke unto? Mir. Oh what a tongue is here! whil'st she doth teach My heart to hate my fond unlawful love, She talks me more in love, with love to her, My fires she quencheth with her arguments, But as she breathes 'em, they blow fresher fires. Sit further: now my flame cools; Husband, Wife, There is some holy mystery in those names That sure the unmarried cannot understand. Ori. Now thou art strait, and dost enamour me, So far beyond a carnal earthly love; My very soul doats on thee, and my spirits Do embrace thine, my mind doth thy mind kiss, And in this pure conjunction we enjoy A heavenlier pleasure than if bodies met: This, this is perfect love, the other short, Yet languishing fruition, every Swain And sweating Groom may clasp, but ours refin'd Two in ten ages cannot reach unto; Nor is our spiritual love, a barren joy, For mark what blessed issue we'll beget, Dearer than children to posterity, A great example to mens continence, And womens chastity, that is a child More fair and comfortable, than any heir. Mir. If all wives were but such, lust would not find One corner to inhabit, sin would be So strange, remission superfluous: But one petition, I have done. Ori. What (Sweet)? Mir. To call me Lord, if the hard hand of death Seize on Gomera first. Ori. Oh, much too worthy; How much you undervalue your own price, To give your unbought self, for a poor woman, That has been once sold, us'd, and lost her show? I am a garment worn, a vessel crack'd, A Zone unti'd, a Lilly trode upon, A fragrant Flower cropt by another[s] hand, My colour sully'd, and my odo[r] chang'd, If when I was new blossom'd, I did fear My self unworthy of Miranda's spring: Thus over-blown, and seeded, I am rather Fit to adorn his Chimney, than his bed. Mir. Rise miracle: save Malta, with thy virtue, If words could make me proud, how has she spoke, Yet I will try her to the very block: Hard-hearted, and uncivil Oriana, Ingrateful payer of my Industries, That with a soft painted hypocrisie Cozen'st, and jeer'st my perturbation, Expect a witty, and a fell revenge: My comfort is, all men will think thee false, Beside thy Husband having been thus long (On this occasion) in my Fort, and power.

I'll hear no more words: Captain, let's away With all care see to her: and you Lucinda Attend her diligently: she is a wonder. Nor. Have you found she was well deliver'd: What, had she a good Midwife, is all well? Mir. You are merry Norandine. Luc. Why weep you, Lady? Ori. Take the poor Babe along. Col. Madam, 'tis here. Ori. Dissembling death, why didst thou let me live To see this change, my greatest cause to grieve? [Exeunt.

Val. A tender Husband hast thou shew'd thy self My dearest brother, and thy memory After my life in brazen Characters; Shall monumentally be register'd To ages consequent, till times running hand, Beats back the world, to undistinguished Chaos, And on the top of that thy name shall stand Fresh, and without decay. Gom. Oh honor'd Sir! If hope of this, or any bliss to come, Could lift my load of grief off from my soul, Or expiate the trespass 'gainst my wife, That in one hours suspition I begat, I might be won to be a man again, And fare like other Husbands, sleep and eat, Laugh, and forget my pleasing penitence; But till old nature can make such a wife Again, I vow ne'r to resume the order And habits that to men are necessary, All breath I'll spend in sighs, all sound in groans, And know no company but my wasting moans. Ast. This will be wilful murder on your self, Nor like a Christian do you bear the chance Which th' inscrutable Will of Heaven admits. Gom. What would you have my weakness do, that Suffer'd it self thus to be practis'd on, By a damn'd hell-hound, and his agent dam, The impious Midwife, to abortive births, And cruel instrument to his decrees? By forgery they first assail'd her life, Heaven playing with us yet, in that, he wrought My dearest friend, the servant to her virtue To combat me, against his Mistriss truth. That yet effectless, this enchanting Witch, Bred baneful jealousie against my Lady, My most immaculate Lady, which seiz'd on her Almost to death: Oh yet! not yet content, She in my hand put (to restore her life As I imagin'd) what did execute Their devilish malice, farther, great with child, Was this poor innocent, that too was lost, They doubled death upon her, not staying there, They have done violence unto her Tomb, Not granting rest unto her in the grave: I wish Miranda had enjoy'd my prize; For sure I'm punish'd for usurping her, Oh what a Tyger is resisted Lust! How it doth forrage all! Mount. Part of this tale I grant you true; but 'twas not poison given her? Ab. I would it had, we had been far enough, If we had been so wise, and had not now Stood curtesing for your mercies here. Mount. Beside, What is become o' th' body? we know not. Val. Peace impudence, And dear Gomera practice patience As I my self must, by some means at last We shall dissolve this Riddle. Gom. Wherefore comes This villain in this festival array, As if he triumph'd for his treachery? Cast. That is by our appointment: give us leave, You shall know why anon.

Val. One of the Esguard. Esg. The Gentlemen are come. Val. Truce then awhile, With our sad thoughts; what are you both resolv'd? Nor. Not I my Lord, your down-right Captain still I'll live, and serve you, not that altogether I want compunction of conscience, I have enough to save me, and that's all, Bar me from drink, and drabs, ev'n hang me too, You must ev'n make your Captains Capons first, I have too much flesh for this spiritual Knighthood, And therefore do desire forbearance, Sir, Till I am older, or more mortifi'd, I am too sound yet. Val. What say you Miranda? Mir. With all pure zeal to Heaven, duty to you, I come to undergo it. Val. Proceed to th' ceremony. Gom. Before you match with this bright honor'd title, Admir'd Miranda, pardon what in thought I ever did transgress against your virtue; And may you find more joy with your new Bride Than poor Gomera e'r enjoy'd with his, But 'twas mine own crime, and I suffer for't: Long wear your dignity, and worthily, Whilst I obscurely in some corner vanish. Mir. Have stronger thoughts, and better, first I crave According to the order of the Court I may dispose my Captives, and the Fort, That with a clean and purified heart The fitlier I may endue my Robe. All. 'Tis granted.

Mir. Bring the Captives. To your charge And staid tuition, my most noble friend; I then commend this Lady; start not off A fairer, and a chaster never liv'd; By her own choice you are her Guardian, For telling her I was to leave my Fort, And to abandon quite all worldly cares. Her own request was, to Gomera's hands She might be given in custody, for sh'ad heard He was a Gentleman wise, and temperate, Full of humanity to Women-kind, And 'cause he had been married, knew the better How to entreat a Lady. Val. What Countrey-woman is she? Mir. Born a Greek. Val. Gomera, 'twill be barbarous to denie A Lady, that unto your refuge flies, And seeks to shrowd her under virtues wing. Gom. Excuse me noble Sir; oh think me not So dull a devil, to forget the loss Of such a matchless wife as I possess'd, And ever to endure the sight of woman: Were she the abstract of her sex for form, The only warehouse of perfection. Were there no Rose nor Lilly but her Cheek, No Musick but her tongue, Virtue but hers; She must not rest near me, my vow is graven, Here in my heart, irrevocably breath'd And when I break it. Ast. This is rudeness Spaniard, Unseasonably you play the Timonist, Put on a disposition is not yours, Which neither fits you, nor becomes you. Gom. Sir. Cast. We cannot force you, but we would perswade. Com. Beseech you Sir, no more, I am resolv'd To forsake Malta, tread a pilgrimage To fair Jerusalem, for my Ladies soul, And will not be diverted. Mir. You must bear This Child along w'ye then. Gom. What Child? All. How's this? Mir. Nay then Gomera, thou art injurious, This Child is thine, and this rejected Lady Thou hast as often known, as thine own wife, And this I'll make good on thee, with my sword. Gom. Thou durst as well blaspheme: if such a scandal— (I crave the rights due to a Gentleman) Woman unvail. Ori. Will you refuse me yet? Gom. My Wife! Val. My Sister! Gom. Some body, thank Heaven I cannot speak. All. All praise be ever given: Mount. This saves our lives, yet would she had been dead; The very sight of her afflicts me more Than fear of punishment, or my disgrace. Val. How came you to the Temple? Mir. Sir, to do My poor devotions, and to offer thanks For scaping a temptation near perform'd With this fair Virgin. I restore a wife Earth cannot parallel: and busie nature If thou wilt still make women, but remember To work 'em by this sampler; take heed, Sir, Henceforth you never doubt, Sir. Gom. When I do Death take me suddainly. Mir. To increase your happiness To your best wife take this addition. Gom. Alack my poor knave. Val. The confession The Moor made 't seems was truth.

Luc. My husband? My dearest Angelo? Nor. More Jiggam-bobs; is not this the fellow that swom Like a duck to th' shore in our sea-service? Col. The very same, do not you know me now, Sir, My name is Angelo, though Colonna vail'd it, Your Countrey-man and kinsman born in Florence, Who from the neighbor-Island here of Goza Was captive led, in that unfortunate day When the Turk bore with him three thousand souls; Since in Constantinople have I liv'd Where I beheld this Turkish Damsel first. A tedious suitor was I for her love, And pittying such a beauteous case should hide A soul prophan'd with infidelity, I labour'd her conversion with my love, And doubly won her; to fair faith her soul She first betroth'd, and then her faith to me, But fearful there to consummate this contract We fled, and in that flight were ta'en again By those same Gallies, 'fore Valetta fought. Since in your service I attended her, Where, what I saw, and heard, hath joy'd me more Than all my past afflictions griev'd before. Val. Wonders crown wonders: take thy wife Miranda. Be henceforth call'd our Malta's better Angel, And thou her evil Mountferrat.

Mir. This last petition to the Court, I may bequeath the keeping of my Fort To this my kinsman, toward the maintenance Of him, and his fair virtuous wife; discreet, Loyal, and valiant I dare give him you. Val. You must not ask in vain, Sir. Col. My best thanks To you my noble Cosin, and my service To the whole Court; may I deserve this bounty. Val. Proceed to th' ceremony, one of our Esguard Degrade Mountferrat first. Mount. I will not sue For mercy, 'twere in vain; fortune thy worst. [Musick.

See, see, the stain of honor, virtues foe, Of Virgins fair fames, the foul overthrow, That broken hath his oath of chastity Dishonor'd much this holy dignity, Off with his Robe, expell him forth this place, Whilst we rejoyce, and sing at his disgrace. Val. Since by thy actions thou hast made thy self Unworthy of that worthy sign thou wear'st, And of our sacred order, into which For former virtues we receiv'd thee first, According to our Statutes, Ordinances, For praise unto the good, a terror to The bad, and an example to all men; We here deprive thee of our habit, and Declare thee unworthy our society, From which we do expell thee, as a rotten Corrupted and contagious member. Esq. Using th' authority th' Superior Hath given unto me, I untie this knot, And take from thee the pleasing yoak of heaven: We take from off thy breast this holy cross Which thou hast made thy burthen, not thy prop; Thy spurs we spoil thee of, leaving thy heels Bare of thy honor, that have kick'd against Our Orders precepts: next we reave thy sword, And give thee armless to thy enemies, For being foe to goodness, and to Heaven, Last, 'bout thy stiff neck, we this halter hang, And leave thee to the mercy of thy Court. Val. Invest Miranda.

Fair child of virtue, honors bloom That here with burning zeal dost come With joy to ask the white cross cloak, And yield unto this pleasing yoak That being young, vows chastity, And choosest wilful poverty; As this flame mounts, so mount thy zeal, thy glory Rise past the Stars, and fix in Heaven thy story. 1 Bish. Wha[t] crave you, gentle Sir? Mir. Humble admittance To be a brother of the holy Hospital Of great Jerusalem. 2 Bish. Breathe out your vow. Mir. To heaven, and all the bench of Saints above Whose succor I implore t' enable me, I vow henceforth a chaste life, not to enjoy Any thing proper to my self; obedience To my Superiors, whom Religion, And Heaven shall give me: ever to defend The virtuous fame of Ladies, and to oppugne Even unto death the Christian enemy, This do I vow to accomplish. Esq. Who can tell, Has he made other vow, or promis'd marriage To any one, or is in servitude? All. He's free from all these. 1 Bish. Put on his spurs, and girt him with the sword, The scourge of Infidels, and tipes of speed. Buildst thy faith on this? Mir. On him that dy'd On such a sacred figure, for our sins. 2 Bish. Here, then we fix it on thy left side, for Thy increase of faith, Christian defence, and service To th' poor, and thus near to thy heart we plant it That thou maist love it even with all thy heart, With thy right hand protect, preserve it whole, For if thou fighting 'gainst heavens enemies Shalt flie away, abandoning the cross The Ensign of thy holy General, With shame thou justly shalt be robb'd of it Chas'd from our company, and cut away As an infectious putrified limb. Mir. I ask no favour. 1 Bish. Then receive the yoak Of him that makes it sweet, and light, in which, Thy soul find her eternal rest. Val. Most welcome. All. Welcome, our noble Brother. Val. Break up the Court; Mountferrat, though your deeds Conspiring 'gainst the lives of innocents Hath forfeited your own, we will not stain Our white cross with your blood: your doom is then To marry this coagent of your mischiefs Which done, we banish you the continent, If either, after three daies here be found The hand of Law laies hold upon your lives. Nor. Away French stallion, now you have a Barbary mare Of your own, go leap her, and engender young devilings. Val. We will find something noble Norandine To quit your merit: so to civil feasts, According to our customs; and all pray The dew of grace, bless our new Knight to day. [Exeunt.