The Scene Malta.

Mount. DAres she dispise me thus? me that with spoil And hazardous exploits, full sixteen years Have led (as hand-maids) Fortune, Victory Whom the Maltezi call my servitors? Tempests I have subdued, and fought them calm, Out-lighten'd lightning in my Chivalry; Rid (tame as patience) billows that kick'd heaven, Whistl'd enraged Boreas till his gusts Were grown so gentle, that he seem'd to sigh, Because he could not show the ayr my keel, And yet I cannot conquer her bright eyes, Which though they blaze both comfort, and invite Neither by force, nor fraud pass through her ear (Whose guard is only blushing Innocence) To take the least possession of her heart, Did I attempt her with a thred-bare name—unapt with meritorious actions, She might with colour dis-allow my suit: But by the honor of this Christian cross (In blood of Infidels so often dy'd) Which mine own Soul and Sword hath fixed here And neither favor, nor births priviledge Oriana shall confess, although she be Valettas Sister our Grand-master here, The wages of scorn'd Love is baneful hate, And if I rule not her, I'le rule her fate. Rocca, my trusty Servant, welcome.

Roc. Sir, I wish my news deserv'd it: hapless I That being lov'd, and trusted fail to bring The loving answer that you do expect. Mount. Why speak'st thou from me: thy pleas'd eyes send forth Beams brighter than the star that ushers day, Thy smiles, restore sick expectation. Roc. I bring you Sir, her smiles, not mine. Mount. Her smiles? Why they are presents for Kings eldest Sons, Great Solyman that wearies his hot eyes, But to peruse his deck'd Seraglio, When from the number of his Concubines He chooseth one for that night in his pride Of them, wives, wealth, is not so rich as I In this one smile, from Oriana sent. Roc. Sir, fare ye well. Mount. Oh Rocca! thou art wise, And woul[d]'st not have the torrent of my joy Ruine me headlong; aptly thou conceiv'st If one reviving smile can raise me thus, What trances will the sweet words which thou bring'st Cast me into? I felt (my dearest friend, No more my Servant) when I imployed thee That knew'st to look, and speak as Lovers should, And carry faithfully thy Masters sighs, That it must work some heat in her cold heart, And all my labors now come fraughted home With ten fold prize. Roc. Will you yet hear me? Mount. Yes, But take heed (gentle Rocca) that thou do'st Tenderly by degrees assault mine ears With her consent, now to embrace my love, For thou well know'st I have been so plung'd, so torn With her resolv'd reject, and neglect: That to report her soft acceptance now, Will stupifie sense in me, if not kill: Why shew'st thou this distemper? Roc. Draw your sword, And when I with my breath have blasted you, Kill me with it: I bring you smiles of pitty, not affection: For such she sent. Mount. Oh! can she pitty me? Of all the paths lead to a womans love, Pitties the streightest. Roc. Waken Sir, and know That her contempt (if you can name it so) Continues still: she bids you throw your Pearl Into strong streams, and hope to turn them so, Ere her too foul dishonor, writ[e] your plaints In rocks of Coral grow'n above the Sea, Them hope to soften to compassion, Or change their modest blush to love sick pale, Ere work her to your impious requests; All your loose thoughts she chides you home again, But with such calm behaviour, and mild looks, She gentlier denies than others grant, For just as others love so doth she hate: She says, that by your order you are bound From marrying ever, and much marvels then You would thus violate her and your own faith, That being the virgin you should now protect, Hitherto she professes she has conceal'd Your lustful Batteries, but the next she vowes, (In open Hall, before the honor'd cross And her great Brother) she will quite disclose Calling for justice, to your utter shame. Mount. Hence, find the Blackamore that waits upon her, Bring her unto me, she doth love me yet, And I must her now, at least seem to do: Cupid, thy brands that glow thus in my veins, I will with blood extinguish—ar't not gone? Shall my desires, like beggars wait at dore Whil'st any others revel in her breast? Sweat on my spirits: know thou trickt up toy, My love's a violent flood, where art thou faln, Playing with which tide thou'dst been gently toss'd, But crossing it, thou art or'whelm'd, and lost.

Cast. Monsieur, good day. Ast. Good morrow valiant Knight, What, are you for this great solemnity This morn intended? Mount. What solemnity? Ast. The investing of the Martial Spaniard, Peter Gomera, with our Christian Badge. Cast. And young Miranda the Italian, Both which with wondrous prowess, and great luck Have dar'd and done for Malta, such high feats, That not one Fort in it, but rings their names As loud as any mans. Mount. As any mans? Why, we have fought for Malta. Ast. Yes Mountferrat. No bold Knight ever past you, but we wear The dignity of Christians on our breasts, And have a long time triumph'd for our conquests; These conquer'd a long time, not triumph'd yet. Mount. Astori[u]s, you are a most indulgent Knight, Detracting from your self, to add to others, You know this title is the period To all our labors, the extremity Of that tall pyramid, where hon[ou]r hangs, Which we with sweat and agony have reach'd, And should not then so easily impart So bright a wreath to every cheap desert. Cast. How is this French man chang'd Astorius! Some sullen discontent possesses him, That makes him envy, what he heretofore Did most ingeniously but emulate. Mount. Oh furious desire, how like a whirl-wind Thou hurriest me beyond mine honors point! Out of my heart, base lust, or heart, I vow Those flames that heat me thus, I'll burn thee in. Ast. Do' ye observe him? Mount. What news of the Dane, That valiant Captain Norandine? Cast. He fights still, In view oth' Town; he playes the devil with 'em, And they the Turks with him. Mount. They'r well met then, 'twere sin to sever 'em Pish—woman.—Memory— Would one of ye would leave me: Ast. Six fresh Gallies I in St. Angelo from the promontory This morne descride, making a Girdle for him, But our great Master doth intend relief This present meeting: will you walk along? Mount. Humh—I have read, Ladies enjoy'd, have been The gulphs of worthiest men, buried their names, Their former valor, bounty, beauty, virtue, And sent 'em stinking to untimely graves. I that cannot enjoy, by her disdain, Am like to prove as wretched; woman then Checking or granting, is the grave of men. Ast. He's saying of his prayers sure. Cast. Will you go Sir? Mount. I cry you mercy: I am so transported (Your pardon, noble Brothers) with a business That doth concern all Malta, that I am (Anon you'l hear't) almost blind, and deaf. Lust neither sees nor hears ought but it self: But I will follow instantly: your cross. Ast. Not mine. [dropt. Cast. Nor mine, 'tis yours. Ast. Cast. Good morrow Brother. [Exeunt. Mount. White innocent sign, thou do'st abhor to dwell, So near the dim thoughts of this troubled breast, [And grace these graceless projects of my heart.]

Yet I must wear thee to protect my crimes, If not for conscience, for hypocrisie, Some Churchmen so wear Cassocks: Oh my Zan. My Pearl, that scornes a stain! I mu[ch] repent All my neglect: let me Ixion like, Embrace my black cloud, since my Juno is So wrathful, and averse; thou art more soft And full of dalliance than the fairest flesh, And far more loving. Zan. I, you say so now, But like a property, when I have serv'd Your turns, you'll cast me off, or hang me up For a sign, somewhere. Mount. May my life then forsake me Or from my expected bliss, be cast to hell. Zan. My tongue Sir, cannot lisp to meet you so, Nor my black cheeck put on a feigned blush, To make me seem more modest than I am. This ground-work, will not bear adulterate red, Nor artificial white, to cozen love. These dark locks, are not purchas'd, nor these teeth, For every night, they are my bed-fellows; No bath, no blanching water; smoothing oyles, Doth mend me up; and yet Mountferrat, know, I am as full of pleasure in the touch As ere a white fac'd puppet of 'em all, Juicy, and firm, unfledge 'em of their tyres, Their wires, their partlets; pins, and Periwigs, And they appear like bald cootes, in the nest; I can as blithly work in my loves bed, And deck thy fair neck, with these Jetty chains, Sing thee asleep, being wearied, and refresh'd, With the same organ, steal sleep off again. Mount. Oh my black swan, sleeker then Cignets plush, Sweeter than is the sweet of Pomander, Breath'd like curl'd Zephyrus, cooling Lymon-trees, Straight as young pines, or Cedars in the grove, Quickly discend lovers best Canopie Still night, for Zanthia doth enamour me Beyond all continence perpetrate (deer wench) What thou hast promis'd, and I vow by heaven Malta, I'll leave [in it] my honours here, And in some other Country (Zanthia) make My wife, and my best fortune. Zan. From this hope, Here is an answer to that Letter, which I lately shew'd you sent from Tripoly, By the great Basha, which importunes her Love unto him, and treachery to the Island, Which will she undertake, by Mahomet The Turk there vowes, on his blest Alcharon, Marriage unto her: this the Master knows, But is resolv'd of her integrity (As well [he] may) sweet Lady yet for love, For love of thee Mountferrat, (Oh! what Chains Of deity, or duty can hold love?) I have this answer fram'd, so like her hand As if it had been moulded off: returning The Bashas Letter safe into her pocket; What will you do with it, your self best knows, Farewel, keep my true heart, keep true your vows. [Exit Zan. Mount. Till I be dust, my Zanthia be confirm'd. Sparrows, and Doves, sit coupling twixt thy lips, It is not love, but strong Libidinous will That triumphs o're me, and to satiate that, What difference twixt this Moore, and her fair Dame? Night makes their hews alike, their use is so, Whose hand is so subtle, he can colours name, If he do winck, and touch 'em? lust being blind, Never in women did distinction find. [Exit.

Zan. Hist, wenches: my Lady calls, she's entring The Tarrase, to see the show. 1. Oh black pudding. 2. My little labor in vain. 1. But what scurvy Knights have we here in Malta, that when they are dubd take their oath of allegiance to live poor, and chastly ever after! 2. 'Faith many Knights in other Nations (I have heard) are as poor as ours: marry where one of 'em has taken the Oath of chastity, we want a new Columbus to find out. [Exeunt.

Mount. Are you there Lady? Ori. Thou art a naughty Man, Heaven mend thee. Val. Our greet meeting princely brothers, Ye holy Souldiers of the Christian Cross, Is to relieve our Captain Norandine, Now fighting for Valetta with the Turk, A valliant Gentleman, a noble Dane As ere the Countrey bred, endangered now By fresh supply of head-bound Infidels. Much means, much blood this warlike Dane hath spent To advance our flag, above their horned moons, And oft hath brought in profitable conquest: We must not see him perish in our view: How far off fight they? Mir. Sir, within a League. Val. 'Tis well: our next occasion of conventing Are these [two] gentlemen, standing in your sight. (Ye are noble props of Malta) royally Descended are they both, valiant as war, Miranda, and Gomera, full ten years They have serv'd this Island, perfected exploits Matchless, and infinite, they are honest, wise, Not empty of one ornament of man: Most eminent agents were they in that slaughter That great marvelous slaughter of the Turks, Before St. Elme, where five and twenty thousand Fell, for five thousand of our Christians: These ripe considerations moving us (Having had your allowance on their worths) Here we would call 'em to our Brotherhood; If any therefore can their manners tax, Their faith, their chastity, any part of life, Let 'em speak now. Ast. None do's. All. None can, great Master. Val. The dignity then dignifie, by them, As their reward: tender Miranda first (Because he is to succor Norandine) Our sacred Robe of Knight-hood, our white Cross, The holy cognizance of him we serve, The sword, the spurs. Mir. Grave, and most honor'd Master, With humble duty, and my souls best thanks To you, and all this famous Conventicle, Let me, with modesty refuse acceptance Of this high order: I (alass) am yet Unworthy, and uncapable of such honor, That merit, which with favor you enlarge Is far, far short, of this propos'd reward. Who take upon him such a charge as this, Must come with pure thoughts, and a gathered mind That time, nor all occasions ever may After disperse, or stain; did this title here Of Knighthood, ask no other ornaments Then other Countries glittring show, poor pride, A gingling spur, a feather, a white hand, A frizled hayr, powder'd, perfumes, and lust, Drinking sweet wines, surfeits, and ignorance, Rashly, and easily should I venture on't, But this requires an other kind of man. Mount. A staid, and mature judgement; speak on sir. Mir. May it please you then to allow me some small time To rectifie my self, for that high seat, Or give my reasons to the contrary. Ith mean space, to dismiss me to the ayd Of Norandine: my Ships ride in the bay Ready to disembogue, tack'led, and mann'd Even to my wishes. Mount. His request Is fair and honest. Val. At your pleasure go. Mir. I humbly take my leave of all: of you My noble friend Mountferrat; gratious Mistriss, Oh that auspitious smile doth arm your souldier, Who fights for those eyes, and this sacred Cross, Can neither meet sad accident, nor loss. [Exit. Ori. The mighty master of that Livory, Conduct thee safely to these eyes again. Mount. Blowes the wind that way? Val. Equally belov'd, Equally meriting, Gomera, you Without excuse receive that dignity: Which our provincial chapter hath decreed you. Gom. Great Master of Jerusalems Hospital, From whence to Rhodes this blest Fraternity Was driven, but now among the Maltois stands, Long may it flourish, whilst Gomera serves it, But dares not enter farther. All. This is strange. Val. What do ye object? Gom. Nothing against it, but my self (fair Knights) I may not wear this Robe. Val. Express your reasons; Doth any hid sin goar your conscience? Ast. Are you unstedfast in Religion? Cast. Or do ye intend to forsake Malta now, And visit your own Countrey fruitful Spaine. Gom. Never good sir. Val. Then explicate your thoughts. Gom. This then: I should be perjur'd to receive it, Once in Melita, your next City here, When I was yonger, read I the decrees Touching this point, being ambitious then To approach it once, none but a Gentleman Can be admitted. Val. That's no obstacle In you. Gom. I should be sorry that were it, No married man. Mount. You never felt that yoak. Gom. None, that hath been contracted. Cast. Were you ever? Gom. Nor married, nor contracted, none that ever Hath vowed his love to any woman kind, Or finds that secret fire within his thoughts: Here I am cast, this Article my heart Objects against the title of my fame, I am in love; laugh not: though time hath set Some wrinkles in this face, and these curl'd locks Will shortly dye into an other hew, Yet, yet I am in love: (yfaith [you] smile) What age, what sex, or what profession Divine, or humane, from the man that cries For Almes the high way, to him that sings At the high Altar, and doth sacrifice, Can truly say he knows not what is Love? Val. 'Tis honestly profest; with whom Gomera? Name the Lady, that with all [advantage] We may advance your suit. Gom. But will you Sir? Val. Now by our holy rock were it our Sister: Spaniard, I hold thee worthy, freely name her. Gom. Be master of your word: it is she Sir, The matchless Oriana. Val. Come down Lady, You have made her blush, let her consent I will Make good my oath. Mount. Is't so? stay: I do love So tenderly Gomera your bright flame, As not to suffer your perdition. Gom. What means Mountferrat?

Mount. This whole auberge hath (A Guard upon this Lady) wonder not, 'Tane publick notice of the Bassaes love Of Tripoli unto her, and consented She should return this answer, as he writ For her conversion, and betraying Malta, She should advise him betray Tripoli, And turning Christian, he should marry her. All. All this was so. Mount. How weakly do's this court then Send Vessels forth to Sea, to guard the Land Taking such special care to save one Bark, Or strive to add fam'd men unto our cloak, When they lurk in our bosomes would subvert This State, and us, presuming on their blood, And partial indulgence to their sex? Val. Who can this be? Mount. Your Sister, great Valetta, Which thus I prove: demand the Bassa's Letter. Ori. 'Tis here, nor from this pocket hath been mov'd Nor answer'd, nor perus'd by —— Mount. Do not swear Cast not away your fair soul, to your treason Add not foul perjury: is this your hand? Ori. 'Tis very like it. Mount. May it please the Master, Confer these Letters, and then read her answer, Which I have intercepted; pardon me Reverend Valetta, that am made the means To punish this most beautious Treachery; Even in your Sister, since in it I save Malta from ruine: I am bolder in't, Because it is so palpable and withall Know our great Master to this Countrey, firm. As was the Roman Marcus, who spar'd not As dear a Sister in the publique cause. Val. I am amaz'd; attend me.

From this time let me never read again. [Gent. W.] 'Tis certain her hand. Val. This Letter too So close kept by her self, could not be answered To every period thus, but by her self. Ori. Sir, hear me. Val. Peace, thou fair sweet bank of flowers, Under whose beauty Scorpions lie, and kill; Wert thou a kin to me, in some new name Dearer than Sister, Mother, or all blood, I would not hear thee speak: bear her to prison, So gross is this, it needs no formal course, Prepare thy self, to morrow thou shalt dye. Ori. I dye a Martyr then, and a poor maid, Almost yfaith as innocent as born, Thou know'st thou art wicked, Frenchman heaven forgive thee [Ex. All. This Scene is strangely turn'd. Val. Yet can nature be So dead in me? I would my charge were off, Mountferrat should perceive my Sister had A Brother would not live to see her dye Unfought for, since the statutes of our state Allow (in case of accusations) A Champion to defend a Ladies truth. Peter Gomera, thou hast lost thy wife, Death pleads a precontract. Gom. I have lost my Tongue, My sence, my heart, and every faculty: Mountferrat go not up: with reverence To our great Master, and this consistory (I have considered it, it cannot be) Thou art a villain, and a forger. A blood-sucker of innocence, an hypocrite, A most unworthy wearer of our Cross; To make which good take (if thou dar'st) that gage And arm'd at all points like a Gentleman Meet me to morrow morning, where the Master, And this fraternity shall design, where I Will cram this slander back into thy throat, And with my swords point thrust it to thy heart, The very nest, where lust and slander breeds. Pardon my passion; I will tear those spurs Off from thy heels, and stik 'em in thy front As a mark'd villain. Mount. This I look'd not for: Ten times more villain, I return my gage, And crave the Law of Arms. Gom. 'Tis that I crave. All. It cannot be denide. Gom. Do not I know With thousand gifts, and importunacies, Thou often hast sollicited this Lady (Contrary to thy oath of chastity) Who ne'r disclosing this thy hot reign'd lust, Yet tender to prevent a publique scandal, That Christendom might justly have impos'd, Upon this holy institution, Thou now hast drawn this practise 'gainst her life To quit her charity. Mount. Spaniard, thou liest. Ast. No more Gomera, thou art granted combat, And you Mountferrat must prepare against To morrow morning in the valley here Adjoyning to St. Georg[e]s Port: a Lady In case of life 'gainst whom one witness comes May have her champion. Val. And who hath most right [Florish With, or against our Sister, speed in fight. [Exit.

Mount. Rocca, the first news of Mirandas service Let me have notice of. Roc. You shall: The Moore Waites you without. Mount. Admit her, ha, ha, ha. Oh, how my fancies run at tilt! Gomera Loves Oriana; she as I should ghess, Affects Miranda; these are two dear friends, As firm, and full of fire, as steel and flint. To make 'em so now, one against the other: [Enter Zanthia. Stay let me like it better, Zanthia; First tell me this, did Don Gomera use To give his visits to your Mistriss? Zan. Yes, and Miranda too: but severally. Mount. Which did she most apply to? Zan. Faith to neither: Yet infinitely I have heard her praise 'em both, And in that manner, that were both one man I think she was in love with't. Mount. Zanthia, Another Letter you must frame for me Instantly, in your Ladies Character, To such a purpose as I'll tell thee strait, Go in, and stay me: Go my Tinder-box, Cross lines I'll cross; so, so: my after-game I must play better: woman, I will spread My vengeance over Malta, for thy sake: Spaniard, Italian, like my steel and stone, I'll knock you thus together, wear ye out To light my dark deeds, whilst I seem precise, And wink to save the sparkles from mine eyes. [Exeunt.

Mir. HOw is it Sir? Nor. Pray set me down; I cool, And my wounds smart. Mir. I hope yet Though there be many, there's none dangerous. Nor. I know not, nor I care not much, I got 'em Like a too forward fool, but I hope the Surgeons Will take an order I shall not leave 'em so, I make the rogues more work than all the Island, And yet they give me the hardest words for my money. Mir. I am glad ye are so sprightly: ye fought bravely Go call the Surgeons Soldiers: wondrous nobly Upon my life, I have not seen such valour, Maintained so long, and to so large a ruine, The odds so strong against ye. Nor. I thank ye, And thank ye for your help, your timely succor. By th'mass, it came i' th' nick Sir, and well handled; Stoutly, and strongly handled: we had duckt else, My Turk had Turk'd me else: but he has well paid for't. Why what a Sign for an Almanack h'as made me!

Ast. I am glad to find ye here Sir, of necessity, I must have come aboard else; and brave Captain We all joy much in your fair victory, And all the Island speaks your valour nobly. Have ye brought the Turk in, that ye took? Mir. He rides there. Nor. If he were out again, the devil should bring him. H'as truly circumcis'd me. Ast. I have a business Which much concerns ye, presently concerns ye; But not this place nor people: pray ye draw off, Sir, For 'tis of that weight to ye. Mir. I'll wait on ye, I must crave leave awhile: my care dwels with ye, And I must wait my self. Nor. Your servant, Sir. Mir. Believe I shall, and what my love can minister; Keep your stout heart still. Nor. That's my best Physitian. Mir. And I shall keep your fame fair. [Exit. Nor. Ye are too Noble. A brave young fellow of a matchless spirit; He brought me off like thunder, charg'd, and boarded, As if he had been shot to save mine honor: And when my fainting men, tyr'd with their labour, And lack of bloud, gave to the Turk assurance The day was his; when I was cut in shreds thus, And not a corn of Powder left to bless us; Then flew his Sword in, then his Cannon roar'd, And let flie bloud and death and storms amongst 'em. Then might I hear their sleepy Prophet howl too, And all their silver Crescents then I saw Like falling Meteors spent, and set for ever Under the Cross of Malta; death so wanton I never lookt upon, so full of revel.

I will not be drest yet: Methought that fellow Was fit for no conversation, nor no Christian That had not halfe his brain's knockt out, no Soldier. Oh valiant young man, how I love thy virtue. 1 Sold. Pray ye Sir be drest, alas ye bleed apace yet. Nor. 'Tis but the sweat of honor (alas) thou milksop, Thou man of March-pain, canst thou fear to see A few light hurts, that blush they are no bigger, A few small scratches? get ye a Cawdle, Sirrah, Your finger akes, and let the old wives watch thee: Bring in the booty: and the prisoners; By heaven I'll see 'em, and dispose 'em first, Before I have a drop of blood wip'd from me, goe. [Exeunt Soldiers. Surg. You'll faint Sir. Nor. No, ye lie, Sir, like an Ass, Sir; I have no such pigs hurt in my belly. Sur. By my life Captain These hurts are not to be jested with. Nor. If thou hadst 'em: They are my companions fool, my family; I cannot eat nor sleep without their company, Dost take me for St. Davy, that fell dead With seeing of his nose bleed?

Sur. Here they come, Sir: But would you would be drest. Nor. Pox: dress thy self first. Thou faint'st a great deal faster: what's all this? 1 Sold. The money and the merchandize ye took Sir. Nor. A goodly purchase; Is it for this we venture Our liberties and lives? what can all this do? Get me some dozen surfeits, some seven fresh whores, And twenty pot-Allies; and then I am virtuous. Lay the Knights part by, and that to pay the Soldier: This is mine own, I think I have deserv'd it: Come, now look to me, and grope me like a Chambermaid, I'll neither start nor squeak; what's that i' th' Trusse there? 2 Sold. 'Tis cloth of Tissue, Sir, and this is Scarlet. Nor. I shall look redder shortly then, I fear me, And as a Captain ought, a great deal prouder. Can ye cure me of that crack, Surgeon? Sur. Yes, when your Suit's at pawn, Sir. Nor. There's for your plaister. A very learned Surgeon: what's in that pack there? 1 Sold. 'Tis English Cloth. Nor. That's a good wear indeed, Both strong, and rich: but it has a virtue A twang of the own Countrey, that spoils all: A man shall ne'r be sober in't: Where are the Gentlemen, That ventur'd with me, both their lives and fortunes? Come forward my fair spirits; Norandine Forgets his worth, when he forgets your valours, You have lost an eye, I saw ye face all hazards: You have one left yet, to choose your Mistriss. You have your leg broke with a shot; yet sitting, I saw you make the place good with your Pike still. And your hand's gone; a good heart wants no instruments; Share that amongst ye, there's an eye, an arm, And that will bear you up, when your legs cannot. Oh, where's the honest Sailor? that poor fellow, Indeed that bold brave fellow, that with his Musket Taught them new ways how to put their caps off; That stood the fire of all the fight, twice blown, And twice I gave him drown'd; welcome ashore knave; Give me thy hand, if they be not both lost: faith thou art welcome, My tough knave welcome: thou wilt not shrink i' th' washing. Hold, there's a piece of Scarlet, get thee handsom. And this to buy thee buttons. Sail. Thank ye Captain. Command my life at all hours. Nor. Thou durst give it. You have deserv'd too. 3 Sold. We have seen the fight Sir. Nor. Yes: coil'd up in a Cable, like salt Eels, Or buried low i' th' ballast, do you call that fighting? Where be your wounds? your knocks? your want of limbs rogues? Art not thou he that ask'd the Master-gunner Where thou mightst lie safest? and he strait answered, Put thy head in that hole, new bor'd with a Cannon; For 'twas an hundred to one, another shot would not hit there: Your wages you shall have, but for rewards Take your own waies: and get ye to the Taverns; There, when ye are hot with Wine, 'mongst your admirers, Take Ships, and Towns, and Castles at your pleasures, And make the Great Turk shake at your valors. Bring in the prisoners now, my brave Musslemen.

You that are Lords o' th' Sea, and scorn us Christians, Which of your mangy lives is worth this hurt here? Away to prison with 'em, see 'em safe; You shall find we have Gallies too, and slaves too. 1 Sold. What shall be done with this woman, Sir? Nor. Pox take her, 'Twas she that set me on to fight with these rogues, That Ring-worm, rot it: what can you do now With all your paintings, and your pouncings, Lady, To restore my blood again? you, and your Cupid That have made a Carbinado of me, plague take ye, Ye are too deep ye rogue, this is thy work woman, Thou lousie woman; 'death, you goe too deep still. The seeing of your simpring sweetness: —— ye Filly, Ye Tit, ye Tomboy, what can one nights gingling, Or two, or ten, sweet heart, and oh my dear chicken, Scratching my head, or fumbling with my fore-mast, Doe me good now? ye have powder'd me for one year, I am in souce I thank ye; thank your beauty, Your most sweet beauty: pox upon those goggles. We cannot fight like honest men, for honor, And quietly kill one another as we ought, But in steps one of you; the devils holiness And you must have a daunce: away with her, She stinks to me now. 1 Sold. Shall I have her Captain? 2 Sold. Or I? 3 Sold. I'll marry her. 4 Sold. Good Captain, I. 3 Sold. And make her a good Christian; lay hands off her; I know she's mine. 2 Sold. I'll give my full share for her: have ye no manners; To thrust the woman so? Nor. Share her among ye; And may she give ye as many hurts as I have, And twice as many aches. Lusc. Noble Captain, Be pleas'd to free me from these Soldiers wildness, Till I but speak two words. Nor. Now for your Maidenhead, You have your book, proceed. Lusc. Victorious Sir, 'Tis seldom seen in men so valiant, Minds so devoid of virtue: he that can conquer, Should ever know how to preserve his conquest, 'Tis but a base theft else. Valour's a virtue, Crown of men's actions here; yours as you make it. And can you put so rough a foyl as violence, As wronging of weak woman to your triumph? Nor. Let her alone. Lusc. I have lost my husband, Sir; You feel not that: him that I love; you care not: When fortune falls on you thus, you may grieve too: My liberty, I kneel not for; mine honor, (If ever virtuous honor toucht your heart yet) Make dear, and precious, Sir: you had a mother. Nor. The rougy thing speaks finely, neat, who took ye? For he must be your guard. Lusc. I wish no better, A noble Gentleman, and Nobly us'd me, They call'd his name Miranda. Nor. You are his then: Ye have light upon a young man worth your service, I free ye from all the rest: and from all violence; He that doth offer't, by my head he hangs for't: Goe see her safe kept, till the Noble Gentleman Be ready to dispose her: thank your tongue, You have a good one, and preserve it good still: Soldiers, come wait on me, I'll see ye paid all. [Exeunt.

Ast. I knew ye lov'd her, virtuously ye lov'd her, Which made me make that haste: I knew ye priz'd her As all fair minds do goodness. Mir. Good Astorius, I [must] confess I do much honor her, And worthily I hope still. Ast. 'Tis no doubt, Sir, For on my life she is much wrong'd. Mir. Very likely: And I as much tormented I was absent. Ast. You need not fear, Peter Gomera's Noble, Of a try'd faith and valour. Mir. This I know too: But whilst I was not there, and whilst she suffer'd; Whilst Virtue suffer'd, friend, oh how it loads me! Whilst innocence and sweetness sunk together, How cold it sits here! if my arm had fought her, My truth, though naked, stood against all treasons, My sword here grasped, Love on the edge, and Honor, And but a signal from her eye to seal it; If then she had been lost; I brag too late, And too much I decline the Noble Peter. Yet some poor service I would do her sweetness, Alas she needs it, my Astorius, The gentle Lady needs it. Ast. Noble spirit. Mir. And what [I] can: prethee bear with this weakness. Often I do not use these Womens weapons But where true pity is. I am much troubl'd, And something have to do, I cannot form yet. Ast. I'll take my leave, Sir, I shall but disturb ye. Mir. And please you for a while: and pray to fortune to smile upon this Lady. Ast. All my help, Sir. [Exit. Mir. Gomera's old and stiff: and he may lose her, The winter of his years and wounds upon him: And yet he has done bravely hitherto; Mountferrat's fury, in his heat of Summer, The whistling of his Sword like angry storms, Renting up life by th' roots, I have seen him scale As if a Falcon had run up a train, Clashing his warlike pinions, his steel'd Curasse, And at his pitch inmew the Town below him. I must doe something.

Col. Noble Sir, for Heaven sake Take pity of a poor afflicted Christian Redeem'd from one affliction to another. Mir. Boldly you ask that, we are bound to give it. From what affliction, Sir? Col. From cold, and hunger; From nakedness and stripes. Mir. A prisoner? Col. A slave, Sir, in the Turkish prize, new taken; That in the heat of fight, when your brave hand Brought the Dane succor, got my irons off, And put my self to mercy of the Ocean. M[i]r. And swom to Land? Col. I did Sir, Heaven was gracious; But now a stranger, and my wants upon me, Though willingly I would preserve this life, Sir, With honesty and truth I am not look'd on; The hand of pity that should give for heaven sake, And charitable hearts are grown so cold, Sir, Never remembring what their fortunes may be. Mir. Thou say'st too true: of what profession art thou? Col. I have been better train'd; and can serve truly, Where trust is laid upon me. Mir. A handsome fellow; Hast thou e'r bore Arms? Col. I have trod full many a march, Sir, And some hurts have to shew: before me too, Sir. Mir. Pity this thing should starve, or, forced for want, Come to a worse end. I know not what thou mayst be. But if thou thinkst it fit to be a servant, I'll be a Master, and a good one to thee, If ye deserve, Sir. Col. Else I ask no favour. Mir. Then Sir, to try your trust, because I like you, Go to the Dane, of him receive a woman, A Turkish prisoner, for me receive her, I hear she is my prize, look fairly to her, For I would have her know, though now my prisoner, The Christians need no Schoolmasters for honor. Take this to buy thee clothes, this Ring, to help thee Into the fellowship of my house: ye are a stranger, And my servants will not know ye else; there keep her, And with all modesty preserve your service. Col. A foul example find me else: Heaven thank ye. Of Captain Norandine? Mir. The same. Col. 'Tis done, Sir: And may Heavens goodness ever dwell about ye. Mir. Wait there till I come home. Col. I shall not fail, Sir. [Exeunt.

Abd. 'Tis strange it should be so, that your high mettle Should check thus poorly, dully; most unmanly. Mount. Let me alone. Abd. Thus leadenly? Mount. —— [t]ake ye. Abd. At every childish fear? at every shadow? Are you Mountferrat that have done such deeds? Wrought through such bloudy fields, men shake to speak of? Can ye go back? is there a safety left yet But fore-right? is not ruine round about ye? Have ye not still these arms, that Sword, that heart-whole? Is't not a man ye fight with, and an old man, A man half kill'd already? Am not I here? As lovely in my black to entertain thee, As high and full of heat to meet thy pleasures? Mount. I will be alone. Abd. Ye shall: farewel, Sir; And do it bravely, never think of conscience: There is none to a man resolved; be happy. [Exit.

Mount. No, most unhappy wretch as thou hast made me More devil than thy self, I am. Mir. Alone, And troubled too, I take it: how he starts! All is not handsome in thy heart Mountferrat. God speed ye Sir, I have been seeking of ye: They say you are to fight to day. Mount. What then? Mir. Nay, nothing but good fortune to your Sword, Sir. Ye have a cause requires it, the Islands safety, The Orders, and your Honors. Mount. And do you make a question I will not fight it Nobly? Mir. Ye dare fight, Ye have, and with as great a confidence as justice, I have seen ye strike as home, and hit as deadly. Mount. Why are these questions then? Mir. I'll tell ye quickly. Ye have a Lady in your cause, a fair one, A gentler never trode on ground, a Nobler. Mount. Do ye come on so fast? I have it for ye. Mir. The Sun ne'r saw a sweeter. Mount. These I grant ye: Nor dare I against beauty heave my hand up, It were unmanly, Sir; too much unmanly: But when these excellencies turn to ruine, To ruine of themselves, and those protect 'em; When virtue's lost, lust and dishonor enter'd, Loss of our selves and souls basely projected— Mir. Do you think 'tis so? Mount. Too sure. Mir. And can it be? Can it be thought Mountferrat, so much sweetness, So great a Magazine of all things precious, A mind so heavenly made, prethee observe me: Mount. I thought so too: now by my Holy Order, He that had told me, (till experience found it Too bold a proof) this Lady had been vitious— I wear no dull Sword Sir, nor hate I virtue. Mir. Against her brother? to the man has bred her? Her Bloud and Honor? Mount. Where ambitious lust Desires to be above the rule prescrib'd her, Takes hold, and wins, poor chastity, cold duty, Like fashions old forgot, she flings behind her, And puts on bloud and mischief, death, and ruine, To raise her new-built hopes, new faith to fasten her: Ma' foy, she is as foul, as Heaven is beauteous. Mir. Thou liest; thou liest Mountferrat: thou liest basely. Stare not, nor swell not with thy pride: thou liest; And this shall make it good. Mount. Out with your heat first, Ye shall be fought withal. M[i]r. By —— that Lady, The virtue of that woman, were all the good deeds Of all thy families, bound in one Fagot, From Adam to this hour, but with one sparkle Would fire that wispe, and turn it to light ashes. Mount. Oh pitiful young man, struck blind with beauty! Shot with a womans smile: poor, poor Miranda; Thou hopeful young man once; but now thou lost man: Thou naked man of all that we call Noble, How art thou cozen'd! didst thou know what I do, And how far thy dear honor (mark me fool) Which like a father I have kept from blasting, Thy tender honor is abus'd: but fight first, And then too late, thou shalt know all. Mir. Thou liest, still. Mount. Stay, now I'll shew thee all, and then I'll kill thee. I love thee so dear, time shall not disgrace thee. Read that. Mir. It is her hand: it is most certain; Good Angels keep me: that I should be her Agent To betray Maltha, and bring her to the Basha, That on my tender love lay all her project! Eyes never see again, melt out for sorrow, Did the Devil do this? Mount. No, but his Dam did it, The virtuous Lady that you love so dearly; Come, will ye fight again? Mir. No, prethee kill me: For Heaven sake, and for goodness sake dispatch me, For the disgrace sake that I gave thee, kill me. Mount. Why, are ye guilty? Mir. I have liv'd Mountferrat, To see dishonor swallow up all virtue, And now would die: by heavens eternal brightness, I am as clear as innocence. Mount. I knew it, And therefore kept this Letter from all knowledge, And this sword from anger, ye had died else. And yet I lye, and basely lye. Mir. O virtue! Unspotted virtue, whither art thou vanish'd? What hast thou left to abuse our frailties In shape of goodness? Mount. Come, take courage, man, I have forgiven, and forgot your rashness, And hold you fair as light in all your actions, And by my troth I griev'd your loves; take comfort, There be more women. Mir. And more mischief in 'em. Mount. The justice I shall do, to right these villanies Shall make ye man again: I'll strike it sure, Sir. Come, look up bravely: put this puling passion Out of your mind; one knock for thee Miranda. And for the Boy, the grave Gomera gave thee, When she accepted thee her Champion; And in thy absence, like a valiant Gentleman, I yet remember it: he is too young, Too Boyish, and too tender, to adventure: I'll give him one sound rap for that: I love thee, Thou art a brave young spark. Mir. Boy, did he call me? Gomera call me Boy? Mount. It pleas'd his gravity, To think so of ye then: they that do service, And honest service, such as thou, and I doe, Are either knaves, or boys. Mir. Boy, by Gomera? How look'd he when he said it? for Gomera Was ever wont to be a virtuous Gentleman, Humane, and sweet. Mount. Yes when he will, he can be; But let it go, I would not breed dissention; 'Tis an unfriendly office, and had it been To any of a higher strain than you, Sir, The well known, well approved, and lov'd Miranda, I had not thought on't: 'twas hap'ly his haste too, And zeal to her. Mir. A Traitor and a Boy too? Shame take me if I suffer't: puff: farewel love. Mount. Ye know my business, I must leave ye, Sir, My hour grows on apace. Mir. I must not leave you I dare not, nor I will not, till your goodness Have granted me one courtesie: ye say ye love me? Mount. I doe, and dearly: ask, and let that courtesie Nothing concern mine honor. Mir. You must do it, Or you will never see me more: Mount. What is it? It shall be great that puts ye off; pray speak it. Mir. Pray let me fight to day: good, dear Mountferrat, Let me, and bold Gomera— Mount. Fie Miranda, Doe ye weigh my worth so little? Mir. On my knees, As ever thou hadst true touch of a sorrow Thy friend conceiv'd, as ever honor lov'd thee. Mount. Shall I turn recreant now? Mir. 'Tis not thy cause, Thou hast no reputation wounded in't, Thine's but a general zeal: 'death: I am tainted, The dearest twyn to life, my credit's murder'd, Bafl'd and boy'd. Mount. I am glad ye have swallow'd it, I must confess I pity ye; and 'tis a justice, A great one too, you should revenge these injuries: I know it, and I know ye fit and bold to do it, And man, as much as man may: but Miranda, Why do ye kneel? Mir. By —— I'll grow to the ground here, And with my sword dig up my grave, and fall in't Unless thou grant me: dear Mountferrat, friend, Is any thing in my power, to my life, Sir? The honor shall be yours. Mount. I love ye dearly, Yet so much I should tender. Mir. I'll preserve all: By —— I will: or all the sin fall with me, Pray let me. Mount. Ye have won: I'll once be coward To pleasure you. Mir. I kiss your hands, and thank ye. Mount. Be tender of my credit, and fight bravely. Mir. Blow not the fire that flames. Mount. I'll send mine Armor, My man shall presently attend ye with it, For you must arm immediately, the hour calls, I know 'twill fit ye right; be sure, and secret, And last be fortunate; farewel: ye are fitted: I am glad the load's off me. Mir. My best Mountferrat. [Exeunt.

Nor. Doctor, I will see the Combat, that's the truth on't If I had never a leg, I would crawl to see it. Doct. You are most unfit, if I might counsel ye, Your wounds so many, and the air— Nor. The Halter; The air's as good an air, as fine an air; Wouldst thou have me live in an Oven? Doct. Beside the noise, Sir: Which to a tender body. Nor. That's it, Doctor, My body must be cur'd withal: if you'll heal me quickly, Boil a Drum-head in my broth: I never prosper, With knuckles o' Veal, and birds in Sorrel sops, Cawdles, and Cullysses; they wash me away Like a horse had eaten grains: if thou wilt cure me, A pickled herring, and a pottle of Sack: Doctor, And half a dozen Trumpets. Doct. Y' are a strange Gentleman. Nor. As e'r thou knew'st: wilt thou give me another glister That I may sit cleanly there like a French Lady, When she goes to a Mask at Court? where's thy hoboy? Doct. I am glad ye are grown so merry. Nor. Welcome Gent[l]emen.

Ast. We come to see you, Sir; and glad we are To see you thus, thus forward to your health, Sir. Nor. I thank my Doctor here. Doct. Nay, thank your self, Sir, For by my troth, I know not how he's cur'd, He ne'r observes any of our prescriptions. Nor. Give me my Money again then, good sweet Doctor, Wilt thou have twenty shillings a day for vexing me. Doct. That shall not serve ye Sir; [Drums afar off. A low March. Nor. Th[e]n forty shall Sir, And that will make ye speak well: hark the Drums. Cast. They begin to beat to th' field: Oh noble Dane, Never was such a stake, I hope of innocence Plaid for in Malta, and in bloud before. Ast. It makes us hang our heads all. Nor. A bold villain: If there be treason in it: accuse poor Ladies? And yet they may do mischief too: I'll be with ye: If she be innocent, I shall find it quickly, And something then I'll say. Ast. Come, lean on us, Sir. Nor. I thank ye Gentlemen: and Domine Doctor, Pray bring a little sneezing powder in your pocket, For fear I sound when I see [bloud]. Doct. You are pleasant. [Exeunt.

1. Are the Combatants come in? [The Scaffold set out, and the stairs. 2. Yes. 1. Make the field clear there. 2. That's done too. 1. Then to the prisoner: the grand Master's coming, Let's see that all be ready there. 2. Too ready. How ceremonious our very ends are! Alas, sweet Lady, If she be innocent, [Florish. No doubt but justice will direct her Champion Away: I hear 'em come: 1. Pray heaven she prosper.

Val. Give Captain Norandine a chair. Nor. I thank your Lordship. Val. Sit Sir, and take your ease: your hurts require it You come to see a womans cause decided That's all the knowledge now, or name I have for her: They say a false, a base, and treacherous woman, And partly prov'd too. Nor. Pity it should be so: And if your Lordship durst ask my opinion, Sure, I should answer no, so much I honor her: And answer't with my life too: But Gomera Is a brave Gentleman; the other valiant, And if he be not good, dogs gnaw his flesh off, And one above 'em both will find the truth out. He never fails, Sir. Val. That's the hope rests with me. Nor. How nature and his honor struggle in him! A sweet, clear, noble Gentleman. [Within, make room there. Guard. Make room there. Val. Go up, and what you have to say, say there.

Ori. Thus I ascend: nearer I hope to heaven, Nor doe I fear to tread this dark black Mansion: The Image of my grave, each foot we move, Goes to it still: each hour we leave behind us, Knols sadly toward it: My noble Brother For yet mine innocence dares call ye so, And you the friends to virtue, that come hither, The Chorus to this Tragick Scæne, behold me, Behold me with your Justice, not with Pity, (My cause was ne'r so poor to ask compassion,) Behold me in this spotless White I wear, The Emblem of my life, of all my actions, So ye shall find my story, though I perish: Behold me in my Sex, I am no Soldier, Tender, and full of fears our blushing Sex is, Unhardned with relentless thoughts; unhatcht With bloud, and bloudy practice: alas we tremble; But when an angry dream afflicts our fancies, Die with a tale well told: had I been practis'd, And known the way of mischief, travell'd in it And given my bloud; and honor up to reach it, Forgot Religion, and the line I sprung on, Oh heaven, I had been fit then for thy justice, And then in black, as dark as Hell, I had howl'd here. Last, in your own opinions weigh mine innocence, Amongst ye I was planted from an Infant (Would then, if heaven had so been pleas'd, I had perish'd) Grew up, and goodly, ready to bear fruit, The honourable fruit of marriage: And am I blasted in my bud with Treason? Boldly, and basely of my fair name ravish'd, And hither brought to find my rest in ruine? But he that knows all, he that rights all wrongs, And in his time restores, knows me: I have spoken. Val. If ye be innocent, heaven will protect ye, And so I leave ye to his Sword strikes for ye, Farewell. Ori. Oh that went deep, farewel deer brother, And howsoe'r my cause goes, see my body (Upon my knees I ask it) buried chastely; For yet, by holy truth, it never trespass'd. Ast. Justice sit on your cause; and heaven fight for ye. Nor. Two of ye Gentlemen, do me but the honor To lead me to her: good my Lord, your leave too: Val. You have it Sir. Nor. Give me your fair hands fearless, As white as this I see your Innocence, As spotless, and as pure: be not afraid Lady, You are but here brought to your nobler fortune, To add unto your life immortal story: Vertue, through hardest things arrives at happiness, Shame follow that blunt sword that looses you: And he that strikes against you: I shall study A curse or two for him: once more your fair hands, I never brought ill luck yet; be fearless happy. Ori. I thank ye, noble Captain. Nor. So I leave ye. Val. Call in the Knights severally.

Ori. But two words to my champion, And then to heaven and him, I give my cause up: Val. Speak quickly, and speak short. Ori. I have not much Sir. Noble Gomera, from your own free virtue, You have undertaken here a poor Maids honor. And with the hazard of your life: and happily You may suspect the cause, though in your true worth You will not shew it, therefore take this testimony (And as I hope for happiness, a true one) And may it steel your heart, and edge your good sword, Ye fight for her, as spotless of these mischiefs, As heaven is of our sins, or truth of errors, And so defie that treacherous man, and prosper. Nor. Blessing o'thy heart Lady. Val. Give the signal to 'em. [Low Alarms. Nor. 'Tis bravely fought Gomera; follow that blow, Well struck again boy: look upon the Lady, And gather spirit: brave again: lye close. Lye close I say: he fights aloft, and strongly: Close for thy life: a vengeance o' that fell buffet: Retire, and gather breath: ye have day enough Knights; Look lovely on him Lady: to't again now Stand, stand Gomera, stand: one blow for all now. Gather thy strength together; God bless the woman: Why, where's thy noble heart? heaven bless the Lady. All. Oh, oh! Val. She is gone, she is gone. Nor. Now strike it. Hold, hold: he yields: hold thy brave sword he's conquer'd: He's thine Gomera, now be joyful Lady: What could this thief have done, had his cause been equal? He made my heart-strings tremble. Val. Off with his Caske there; And Executioner take you his head next. Abdel. Oh cursed fortune! Gom. Stay, I beseech ye, Sir, and this one honor Grant me: I have deserv'd it; that this villain May live one day, to envy at my justice, That he may pine and dye, before the sword fall. Viewing the glory, I have won her goodness. Val. He shall, and you the harvest of your valour Shall reap brave Sir, abundantly. Gom. I have sav'd her. Preserv'd her spotless worth from black destruction, Her white name to eternity deliver'd, Her youth, and sweetness, from a timeless ruine. Now Lord Valetta, if this bloudy labour May but deserve her favour. Mir. Stay, and hear me first. Val. Off with his Cask, this is Miranda's voice. Nor. 'Tis he indeed, or else mine eies abuse me, What makes he here thus? Ori. The young Miranda? Is he mine enemy too? Mir. None has deserv'd her If worth must carry it, and service seek her, But he that saved her honor. Gom. That's I Miranda. Mir. No, no, that's I Gomera, be not so forward, In bargain for my love, ye cannot cozen me. Gom. I fought it. Mir. And I gave it: which is nobler? Why every Gentleman would have done as much As you did: fought it: that's a poor desert, Sir, They are bound to that; but then to make that fight sure, To doe as I did, take all danger from it Suffer that coldness, that must call me now Into disgrace for ever, into pity. Gom. I undertook first, to preserve from hazard. Mir. And I made sure no hazard should come neer her. Gom. 'Twas I defi'd Mountferrat. Mir. 'Twas I wrought him, You had had a dark day else; 'Twas I defi'd His conscience first, 'twas I that shook him there, Which is the brave defiance. Gom. My life and honor At stake I laid. Mir. My care; and truth lay by it Least that stake might be lost: I have deserv'd her, And none but I; the Lady might have perish'd, Had Fell Mountferrat struck it, from whose malice With cunning, and bold confidence I catch'd it, And 'twas high time, and such a service Lady For you, and for your innocence, for who knows not The all-devouring sword of fierce Mountferrat? I shew'd ye what I could do, had I been spightful Or Master but of halfe the poison he bears, (Hell take his heart for't) and beshrew these hands Madam, With all my heart, I wish a mischief on 'em, They made ye once look sad: such another fright I would not put ye in, to ow[n]e the Island, Yet pardon me, 'twas but to shew a Soldier, Which, when I had done, I ended your poor coward. Val. Let some look out, for the base Knight Mountferrat. Ab. I hope he's far enough, if his man be trusty: This was a strange misfortune; I must not kno[w] it. Val. That most debauch'd Knight, come down sweet Sister My spotless Sister: now, pray thank these Gentlemen, They have deserv'd both truly, nobly of ye. Both excellently, dearly, both all the honor All the respect and favour. Ori. Both shall have it; And as my life, their memories I'll nourish. Val. Ye are both true Knights, and both most worthy Lovers, Here stands a Lady ripen'd with your service, Young, fair, and (now I dare say) truly honourable: 'Tis my Will she shall marry: marry now, And one of you (she cannot take more nobly) your deserts Begot this Will, and bred it; both her beauty Cannot enjoy: dare ye mark me your umpier? Gom. Mir. With all our Souls. Val. He must not then be angry That looses her. Gom. Oh that were Sir, unworthy. Mir. A little sorrow he may find. Val. 'Tis manly. Gomera, you are a brave accomplish'd Gentleman A braver no where lives than is Miranda, In the white way of virtue, and true valour. Ye have been a pilgrim long: yet no man farther Has trode those thorny steps, than young Miranda, You are gentle: he is gentleness it self: Experience Calls you her brother; this her hopeful heir. Nor. The young man now, and 't be thy Will. Val. Your hand, Sir; You undertook first: nobly undertook, This Ladies cause: you made it good, and fought it You must be serv'd first, take her, and enjoy her; I give her to you: kiss her, are you pleas'd now? Gom. My joy's so much I cannot speak. Val. Nay, fairest Sir; You must not be displeas'd: you break your promise. Mir. I never griev'd at good, nor dare I now, Sir, Though something seem strange to me. Val. I have provided A better match for you: more full of Beauty, I'll wed ye to our Order: there's a Mistriss, Whose beauty ne'r decaies: time stands below her: Whose honor, Ermin-like, can never suffer, Spot, or black soil; whose eternal issue Fame brings up at her breasts, and leaves 'em sainted, Her you shall marry. Mir. I must humbly thank ye. Val. Saint Thomas Fort, a charge of no small value I give ye too, in present, to keep waking Your noble spirits; and to breed ye pious, I'll send ye a probation Robe, wear that Till ye shall please to be our brother: how now?

Ast. Mountferrat's fled, Sir. Val. Let him go awhile Till we have done these Rites, and seen these coupled: His mischief now lies open: come all friends now. And so let's march to th' Temple, sound those Instruments, That were the signal to a day of bloud; Evil beginning hours may end in good. [Florish. Nor. Come, we'll have wenches man, and all brave things. ---- Let her go: we'll want no Mistresses, Good Swords, and good strong Armors. Mir. Those are best Captain. Nor. And fight till Queens be in love with us, and run after us. I'll see ye at the Fort within these two days, And let's be merry prethee. Mir. By that time I shall. Nor. Why that's well said: I like a good heart truly. [Exeunt.

Ser. THe day's not yet broke, Sir. Nor. 'Tis the cooler riding, I must goe see Miranda: bring my horse Round to the South Port: I'll out here at the beach And meet ye at the end o' th' Sycamores: 'Tis a sweet Walk, and if the wind be stirring Serves like a Fan to cool.

1. SIt Soldiers, sit and sing, the Round is clear And Cock-a-loodle-looe, tells us the day is near. Each toss his Cann, until his throat be mellow, Drink, laugh and sing, the Soldier has no fellow. 2. To thee a full pot, my little Lance-presado, And when thou hast done, a pipe of Trinidado. Our glass of life runs wine, the Vintner slinks it Whilst with his Wife the frolick Soldier drinks it. 3. The Dr[u]ms beat, Ensigns wave, and Cannons thump it Our Game is Ruffe, and the best heart doth trump it: Each toss his Cann until his throat be mellow Drink, Laugh, and Sing, the Soldier has no fellow. 4. I'll pledge thee my Corporal, were it a Flagon After Watch fiercer, than George did the Dragon, What blood we loose i' th' Town, we gain i th' Tuns, Furr'd Gowns, and flat Caps, give the wall to Guns Each toss his Cann, until his throat be mellow, Drink, laugh, and sing, the Soldier has no fellow. Ser. Which Walk? Nor. Why that, Sir, Where the fine City Dames meet to make matches. Ser. I know it. Nor. Speed ye then: what mirth is this? The Watches are not yet discharg'd, I take it: These are brave careless Rogues; I'll hear the Song out And then I'll fit ye for't, merry Companions: Here's notable Order, now for a trick to tame ye— Owgh, owgh. 1. Wat. Hark, hark, what's that below us, who goes there? Nor. Owgh, owgh, owgh. 2. Wat. 'Tis a Bear broke loose: pray call the Corporal. 1. Wat. The Dutchmans huge fat Sow. 2. Wat. I see her now, and five fine pigs. Nor. Owgh, owgh. Corp. Now, what's the matter? 1. Wat. Here's the great fat Sow, Corporal. The Dutchmans Sow, and all the Pigs, brave fat Pigs, You have been wishing long she would break loose. Nor. Owgh, owgh. Cor. 'Tis she indeed, there's a white pig now sucking, Look, look, do you see it, Sirs? 1. Wat. Yes very well, Sir. Cor. A notable fat whorson; come two of ye. Go down with me, we'll have a tickling breakfast. 2. Wat. Let's eat 'em at the Cross. Cor. There's the best liquor. Nor. I'll liquor some of ye, ye lazie rogues, Your minds are of nothing but eating and swilling: What a sweet Beast they have made of me! a Sow? Hogg upon hogg, I hear 'em come.

Cor. Go softly, and fall upon 'em finely, nimb[l]y. 1. Wat. Bless me. Cor. Why, what's the matter? 1. Wat. Oh the devil? The devil, as high as a Steeple. 2. Wat. There he goes Corporal, His feet are Cloven too. Cor. Stand, stand I say: death, how I shake! Where be your Muskets? 1 Wat. There's no good of them: Where be our Prayers, man? 2 Wat. Lord, how he stalks: speak to him Corporal. Cor. Why, what a devil art thou. Nor. Owgh, owgh. Cor. A dumb devil. The worst devil that could come, a dumb devil, Give me a Musket; he gathers in to me, I' th' name of —— speak what art thou?—speak devil, Or I'll put a plumb in your belly. Nor. Owgh, owgh, owgh. Cor. Fie, fie, in what a sweat I am! Lord bless me, My Musket's gone too, I am not able to stir it. Nor. Who goes there? stand, speak. Corp. Sure I am inchanted. Yet here's my Halbert still: nay, who goes there, Sir? What have I lost my self? what are ye? Nor. The Guard. Corp. Why, what are we then: he's not half so long now. Nor he has no tail at all, I shake still damnably. Nor. The word. Corp. Have mercy on me, what word does he mean? Prethee devil, if thou be'st the devil, Do not make an Ass of me; for I remember yet As well as I am here, I am the Corporal, I'll lay my life on't devil. Nor. Thou art damn'd: Corp. That's all one: but am not I the Corporal? I would give a thousand pound to be resolv'd now, Had not I Soldiers here? Nor. No, not a man, Thou art debauch'd, and cozen'd. Corp. That may be, It may be I am drunk; Lord, where have I been? Is not this my Halbert in my hand? Nor. No, 'tis a May-pole. Cor. Why then I know not who I am, nor what, Nor whence I come. Nor. Ye are an arrand Rascal; You Corporal of a Watch. Cor. 'Tis the Dane's voice: you are no devil then. Nor. No, nor no Sow, Sir. Cor. Of that [I] am right g[l]ad, Sir, I was ne'r so frighted in my life, as I am a Soldier. Nor. Tall watchmen, A guard for a Goose, you sing away your Centuries. A careful company: let me out o' th' port here, I was a little merry with your worships: And keep your guards strong, though the devil walk. Hold, there's to bring ye into your wits again. Goe off no more to hunt Pigs: such another trick And you will hunt the gallows. Cor. Pray Sir pardon us: And let the devil come next, I'll make him stand Or make him stink. Nor. Doe, doe your duty truly. Come let me out, and come away: no more rage. [Exe.

Ab. Write thus to me? he hath fearfully, and basely Betraid his own cause: yet to free himself He now ascribes the fault to me. Roc. I know not. What he hath done: but what he now desires, His Letters have inform'd you. Ab. Yes, he is Too well acquainted with the power he holds, Over my mad affections: I want time To write: but pray you tell him, if I were No better steel'd in my strong resolutions Than he hath shown himself in his; or thought There was a hell hereafter, or a Heaven, But in enjoying him, I should stick here, And move no further: bid him yet take comfort; For something I would doe, the devil would quake at, But I'll untie this Nuptial knot of love, And make way for his wishes: in the mean time Let him lie close, for he is strictly sought for, And practise to love her, that for his ends Scorns fear and danger.

Roc. All this I will tell him. [Exit Rocca. Ab. Do so: farewel. My Lady, with my fellow, So earnest in discourse! what e'r it be I'll second it. Vel. He is such a noble Husband, In every circumstance so truly loving, That I might say, and without flattery, Madam The Sun sees not a Lady but your self That can deserve him. Abd. Of all men I say That dare (for 'tis a desperate adventure) Wear on their free necks the sweet yoak of woman, (For they that do repine, are no true husbands) Give me a Soldier. Ori. Why, are they more loving Than other men? Abd. And love too with more judgement; For, but observe, your Courtier is more curious To set himself forth richly than his Lady; His baths, perfumes, nay paintings too, more costly Than his frugality will allow to her, His clothes as chargeable; and grant him but A thing without a beard, and he may pass At all times for a woman, and with some Have better welcome: Now, your man of Lands For the most part is careful to manure them, But leaves his Lady fallow; your great Merchant Breaks oftner for the debt he owes his wife, Than with his creditors; and that's the reason She looks elsewhere for payment: Now your Soldier— Vel. I marry do him right. Abd. First, who has one, Has a perpetual guard upon her honor; For while he wears a sword, slander her self Dares not bark at it: next, she sits at home Like a great Queen, and sends him forth to fetch in Her tribute from all parts; which being brought home, He laies it at her feet, and seeks no further For his reward, than what she may give freely, And with delight too, from her own Exchequer Which he finds ever open. Ori. Be more modest. Abd. Why, we may speak of that we are glad to taste of, Among our selves I mean. Ori. Thou talkst of nothing. Abd. Of nothing Madam? You have found it something; Or with the raising up this pre[tt]y mount here, My Lord hath dealt with spirits.

Ori. Two long hours absent? Gom. Thy pardon sweet: I have been looking on The Prize that was brought in by the brave Dane, The valiant Norandine, and have brought something, That may be thou wilt like of; but one kiss, And then possess my purchase: there's a piece Of cloth of Tissue, this of purple Velvet, And as they swear, of the right Tyrian dye, Which others here but weakly counterfeit: If they are worth thy use, wear them; if not, Bestow them on thy women. Abd. Here's the Husband. Gom. While there is any trading on the Sea Thou shalt want nothing; 'tis a Soldiers glory, However he neglect himself, to keep His Mistriss in full lustre. Ori. You exceed, Sir. Gom. Yet there was one part of the prize dispos'd of Before I came, which I grieve that I miss'd of, Being almost assured, it would have been A welcome present. Ori. Pray you say, what was it? Gom. A Turkish Captive of incomparable beauty, And without question, in her Countrey Noble; Which, as companion to thy faithful Moor, I would have given thee for thy slave. Ori. But was she Of such an exquisite form? Gom. Most exquisite. Ori. And well descended? Gom. So the habit promis'd, In which she was taken. Ori. Of what years? Gom. 'Tis said A Virgin of fourteen. Ori. I pity her, And wish she were mine, that I might have the means T' entertain her gently. Gom. She's now Miranda's, And as I have heard, made it her suit to be so. Ori. Miranda's? then her fate deserves not pity, But envy rather. Gom. Envy Oriana? Ori. Yes, and their envy that live free. Gom. How's this? Ori. Why, she's falln into the hands of one, So full of that, which in men we stile goodness, That in her being his slave, she is happier far Than if she were confirm'd the Sultan's Mistriss. Gom. Miranda is indeed a Gentleman Of fair desert, and better hopes, but yet He hath his equals. Ori. Where? I would go far, As I am now, though much unfit for travails, But to see one that without injury Might be put in the scale, or paralell'd, In any thing that's Noble, with Miranda; His knowledge in all services of war, And ready courage, to put into act That knowing judgement, as you are a Soldier You best may speak of. Nor can you deliver, Nor I hear with delight, a better subject. And heaven did well, in such a lovely feature To place so chaste a mind; for he is of So sweet a carriage, such a winning nature, And such a bold, yet well-dispos'd behaviour; And to all these, h'as such a charming tongue, That if he would serve under Loves fresh colours, What monumental Trophies might he raise, Of his free conquests, made in Ladies favors? Gom. Yet you did resist him, when he was An earnest suitor to you. Ori. Yes I did; And if I were again sought to, I should; But must ascribe it rather to the fate That did appoint me yours, than any power Which I can call mine own. Gom. Even so? Abd. Thanks fortune, The plot I had to raise, in him, doubts of her, Thou hast effected. Ori. I could tell you too, What cause I have to love him, with what reason. In thankfulnes, he may expect from me, All due observance; but I pass that, as A benefit, for which, in my behalf, You are his debtor. Abd. I perceive it takes, By his chang'd looks. Ori. He is not in the City? Is he my Lord? Gom. Who Lady? Ori. Why Miranda, Having you here, can there be any else Worth my enquiry? Gom. This is somewhat more Than love to virtue. Ori. Faith when he comes hither (As sometimes, without question you shall meet him) Invite him home. Gom. To what end? Ori. To dine with us, Or sup. Gom. And then to take a hard bed with you: Mean you not so? Ori. If you could win him to it, 'Twould be the better; for his entertainment, Leave that to me, he shall find Noble usage, And from me a free welcome. Gom. Have you never Heard of a Roman Lady (Oriana) Remembred as a president for Matrons, (Chaste ones, I pray you understand) whose husband Tax'd for his sowre breath by his enemy, Condemn'd his wife, for not acquainting him With his infirmity? Ori. 'Tis a common one; Her answer was, having kiss'd none but him, She thought it was a general disease All men were subject to; but what infer you From that my Lord? Gom. Why, that this virtuous Lady Had all her thoughts so fixed upon her Lord, That she could find no spare time to sing praises Of any other; nor would she imploy Her husband (though perhaps in debt to years As far as I am) for an instrument To bring home younger men that might delight her With their discourse, or— Ori. What my Lord? Gom. Their persons, Or if I should speak plainer— Ori. No it needs not, You have said enough to make my innocence know It is suspected. Gom. You betray your self To more than a suspition; could you else To me that live in nothing but love to you Make such a gross discovery, that your lust Had sold that heart I thought mine, to Miranda? Or rise to such a height in impudence, As to presume to work my yielding weakness To play for your bad ends, to my disgrace, The Wittal, or the Pander? Ori. Do not study To print more wounds, (for that were tyranny) Upon a heart that is pierced through already. Gom. Thy heart? thou hast pierc'd through mine honor false one, The honor of my house, fool that I was, To give it up to the deceiving trust Of wicked woman: for thy sake vild creature, For all I have done well, in my life, I have dig'd a grave, all buried in a wife; For thee I have defi'd my constant Mistriss, That never fail'd her servant, glorious war; For thee, refus'd the fellowship of an Order Which Princes, through all dangers, have been proud To fetch as far as from Jerusalem: And am I thus rewarded? Vel. By all goodness, You wrong my Lady, and deserve her not, When you are at your best: repent your rashness, 'Twill show well in you. Abd. Do, and ask her pardon. Ori. No, I have liv'd too long, to have my faith (My tri'd faith) call'd in question, and by him That should know true affection is too tender To suffer an unkind touch, without ruine; Study ingratitude, all, from my example; For to be thankful now, is to be false. But be it so, let me dye, I see you wish it; Yet dead for truth, and pities sake, report What weapon you made choice of, when you kild me. Vel. She faints. Abd. What have ye done? Ori. My last breath cannot Be better spent, than to say I forgive you; Nor is my death untimely, since with me I take along, what might have been hereafter In scorn delivered for the doubtful issue Of a suspected mother. Vel. Oh, she's gone. Abd. For ever gone. Are you a man? Gom. I grow here. Abd. Open her mouth, and power this Cordial in it; If any spark of life be unquench'd in her, This will recover her. Vel. 'Tis all in vain, She's stiffe already: live I, and she dead? Gom. How like a murtherer I stand! look up, And hear me curse my self, or but behold The vengeance I will take for't Oriana, And then in peace forsake me: Jealousie, Thou loathsome vomit of the fiends below, What desperate hunger made me to receive thee Into my heart, and soul? I'll let thee forth, And so in death find ease; and does my fault then Deserve no greater punishment? no, I'll live To keep thee for a fury to torment me, And make me know what hell is on the earth: All joyes and hopes forsake me; all mens malice, And all the plagues they can inflict, I wish it Fall thick upon me: let my tears be laught at, And may mine enemies smile to hear me groane; And dead, may I be pitied of none. [Exeunt.

Luc. Pray you Sir why was the Ordnance of the Fort Discharg'd so sodainly? Col. 'Twas the Governors pleasure, In honor of the Dane, a custom us'd, To speak a Soldiers welcome. Luc. 'Tis a fit one: But is my Master here too? Col. Three days since. Luc. Might I demand without offence, so much, Is't pride in him (however now a slave) That I am not admitted to his presence? Col. His curtesie to you, and to mankind May easily resolve you, he is free From that poor vice which only empty men Esteem a virtue. Luc. What's the reason then, As you imagine, Sir? Col. Why I [will] tell you; You are a woman of a tempting beauty, And he, however virtuous, as a man Subject to humane frailties; and how far They may prevail upon him, should he see you, He is not ignorant: and therefore chooses, With care t'avoid the cause that may produce Some strange effect, which will not well keep ranck With the rare temperance, which is admired In his life hitherto. Luc. This much increases My strong desire to see him. Col. It should rather Teach you to thank the Prophet that you worship, That you are such a mans, who though he may Do any thing which youth and heat of blood Invites him to, yet dares not give way to them: Your entertainment's Noble, and not like Your present fortune; and if all those tears Which made grief lovely in you, in the relation Of the sad story, that forc'd me to weep too, Your husbands hard fate were not counterfeit; You should rejoyce that you have means to pay A chast life to his memory, and bring to him Those sweets, which while he liv'd, he could not tast of; But if you wantonly bestow them on Another man you offer violence To him, though dead; and his griev'd spirit will suffer For your immodest looseness. Luc. Why, I hope, Sir, My willingness to look on him, to whom I owe my life and service, is no proof Of any unchast purpose. Col. So I wish too, And in the confidence it is not, Lady, I dare the better tell you he will see you This night, in which by him I am commanded, To bring you to his chamber, to what end I easily should guess, were I Miranda; And therefore, though I can yield little reason, (But in a general love to womens goodness) Why I should be so tender of your honor, I willingly would bestow some counsail of you, And would you follow it? Luc. Let me first hear it, And then I can resolve you. Col. My advice then Is, that you would not, (as most Ladies use When they prepare themselves for such encounters) Study to add, by artificial dressings To native excellence; yours (without help) But seen as it is now, would make a Hermit Leave his deaths head, and change his after hopes Of endless comforts for a few short minutes Of present pleasures; to prevent which, Lady, Practice to take away from your perfections, And to preserve your chastity unstain'd, The most deform'd shape that you can put on To cloud your bodies fair gifts, or your minds, (It being laboured to so chast an end) Will prove the fairest ornament. Luc. To take from The workmanship of Heaven is an offence As great, as to endeavor to add to it; Of which, I'll not be guilty: Chastity That lodges in deformity, appears rather A mulct impos'd by nature, than a blessing; And 'tis commendable only when it conquers, Though nere so oft assaulted, in resistance: For me, I'll therefore so dispose my self, That if I hold out, it shall be with honor; Or if I yield, Miranda shall find something To make him love his victory. [Exit. Col. With what cunning This woman argues for her own damnation! Nor should I hold it for a miracle, Since they are all born Sophisters to maintain That lust is lawful, and the end and use Of their creation: would I never had Hop'd better of her; or could not believe, Though seen the ruin, I must ever grieve. [Exit.

Mir. I'll see you in your chamber. [A Table out, two stools. Nor. Pray ye no farther: It is a ceremony I expect not, I am no stranger here, I know my lodging, An[d] have slept soundly there, when the Turks Cannon Playd thick upon't: O 'twas Royal Musick, And to procure a sound sleep for a Souldier, Worth forty of [y]our Fiddles. As you love me Press it no farther. Mir. You will overcome. Wait on him carefully. Nor. I have took since supper A rouse or two too much, and by —— It warms my blood. Mir. You'll sleep the better for't. Nor. —— on't, I should, had but I a kind wench To pull my Boot-hose off, and warm my night-cap, There's no charm like it: I love old Adams way; Give me a diligent Eve, to wait towards bed-time, Hang up your smooth chin page: and now I think on't, Where is your Turkish Prisoner? Mir. In the Castle, But yet I never saw her. Nor. Fie upon you: See her for shame; or hark ye, if you would Perform the friends part to me, the friends part, It being a fashion of the last edition, Far from panderism, now send her to me; You look strange on't, no entertainment's perfect Without it on my word; no livery like it; [I'll tell her, he lookes for it as duly As for his fee;] there's no suit got without it, Gold is an ass to't. Mir. Go to bed, to bed. Nor. Well, if she come, I doubt not to convert her, If not, the sin lye on your head. Good night. [Exit Nor. and Servants.

Col. There you shall find him Lady: you know what I have said, And if you please you may make use. Luc. No doubt Sir. [C]ol. From hence I shall hear all. Mir. Come hither young one. Beshrew my heart: a handsome wench: come nearer, A very handsome one: do not you grieve, Sweet, You are a prisoner? Luc. The loss of liberty No doubt Sir, is a heavy and a sharp burden To them that feel it truely: But your servant, Your humble handmayd, never felt that rigor, Thanks to that noble will: no want, no hunger, (Companions still to slaves) no violence Nor any unbeseeming act, we start at, Have I yet [met] with; all content and goodness, Civility, and sweetness of behaviour Dwell round about me; therefore worthy Master, I cannot say I grieve my liberty. Mir. Do not you fancy me too cold a Soldier, Too obstinate an enemy to youth, That had so fair a jewel in my Cabinet, And in so long a time, would nere look on it? Col. What can she say now? Luc. Sure I desir'd to see ye, And with a longing wish. Col. There's all her virtue. Luc. Pursu'd that full desire to give ye thanks Sir, The only Sacrifice I have left, and service, For all the virtuous care you have kept me safe with. Col. She holds well yet. Mir. The pretty fool speaks finely: Come sit down here. Luc. O Sir, 'tis most unseemly. Mir. I'll have it so: sit close, now tell me truly, Did you ere love yet? Luc. My years will answer that Sir. Mir. And did you then love truly? Luc. So I thought Sir. Mir. Can ye love me so? Col. Now! Luc. With all my duty; I were unworthy of those favors else, You daily showre upon me. Mir. What thinkst thou of me? Luc. I think ye are a truly worthy Gentleman, A pattern, and a pride to the age ye live in, Sweet as the commendations all men give ye. Mir. A pretty flattering rogue, dare ye kiss that sweet man Ye speak so sweetly of? Come. Col. Farewell virtue. Mir. What hast thou got between thy lips? kiss once more. Sure thou hast a spell there. Luc. More than ere I knew Sir. Col. All hopes go now. Mir. I must tell you a thing in your ear, and you must hear me, And hear me willingly, and grant me so too, 'Twill not be worth my asking else. Luc. It must be A very hard thing Sir, and from my power, I shall deny your goodness. Mir. 'Tis a good wench; I must lye with ye Lady. Luc. 'Tis something strange: For yet in all my life I knew no bedfellow. Mir. You will quickly find that knowledge. Luc. To what end Sir? Mir. Art thou so innocent, thou canst not guess at it? Did thy dreams never direct thee? Luc. 'Faith none yet Sir. Mir. I'll tell thee then: I would meet thy youth, and pleasure; Give thee my youth for that, by heaven she fires me, And teach thy fair white arms, like wanton Ivies A thousand new embraces. Luc. Is that all Sir? And say I should try, may we not lie quietly? Upon my conscience I could. Mir. That's as we make it. Luc. Grant that, that likes ye best, what would ye do, then? Mir. What would I do? certainly I am no baby, Nor brought up for a Nun; hark in thine ear. Luc. Fie, fie, Sir. Mir. I would get a brave boy on thee, A warlike boy. Luc. Sure we shall get ill Christians. Mir. We'll mend 'em in the breeding then. Luc. Sweet Master. Col. Never belief in woman come near me more. Luc. My best and noblest Sir, if a poor Virgin, (For yet by —— I am so) should chance so far (Seeing your excellence, and able sweetness) To forget her self, and slip into your bosome, Or to your bed, out of a doting on ye, Take it the best way; have you that cruel heart, That murd'ring mind too? Mir. Yes by my troth (sweet) have I, To lie with her. Luc. And do you think it well done? Mir. That's as she'll think when 'tis done; come to bed wench, For thou art so pretty, and so witty a companion, We must not part to night. Luc. Faith let me go Sir, And think better on't. Mir. Yfaith thou shalt not; I warrant thee I'll think on't. Luc. I have heard 'em say here, You are a Maid too. Mir. I am sure I am, wench, If that will please thee. Luc. I have seen a wonder, And would you loose that for a little wantonness, (Consider my sweet Master, like a man, now,) For a few honied kisses, sleight embraces, That glory of your youth that crown of sweetness? Can ye deliver that unvalued treasure? Would ye forsake, to seek your own dishonor, What gone, no age recovers, nor repentance, To a poor stranger? Col. Hold there again, thou art perfect. Luc. I know you do but try me. Mir. And I know I'll try you a great deal farther: prethee to bed; I love thee, and so well: come kiss me once more; Is a maiden-head ill bestow'd o'me? Luc. What's this Sir? Mir. Why, 'tis the badge (my Sweet) of that holy Order I shortly must receive, the Cross of Malta. Luc. What virtue has it? Mir. All that we call virtuous. Luc. Who gave it first? Mir. He that gave all, to save us. Luc. Why then 'tis holy too? Mir. True sign of holiness, The badge of all his Soldiers that profess him. Luc. The badge of all his Soldiers that profess him, Can 't save in dangers? Mir. Yes. Luc. In troubles comfort? Mir. You say true, sweet. Luc. In sicknes, restore health? Mir. All this it can do. Luc. Preserve from evils that afflict our frailties. Mir. I hope she will be Christian: all these truly. Luc. Why are you sick then, sick to death with lust? In danger to be lost? no holy thought, In all that heart, nothing but wandring frailties Wild as the wind, and blind as death or ignorance, Inhabit there. Mir. Forgive me heaven, she says true. Luc. Dare ye profess that badge, prophane that goodness? Col. Thou hast redeem'd thy self again, most rarely. Luc. That holiness and truth ye make me wonder at? Blast all the bounty heaven gives, that remembrance. Col. O excellent woman. Luc. Fling it from ye quickly, If ye be thus resolv'd; I see a virtue Appear in't like a sword, both edges flaming That will consume ye, and your thoughts, to ashes, Let them profess it that are pure, and noble, Gentle, and just of thought, that build the cross, Not those that break it, by —— if ye touch me, Even in the act, I'll make that cross, and curse ye. Mir. You shall not (fair) I did dissemble with ye, And but to try your faith, I fashion'd all this: Yet something you provokt me: this fair cross: By me (if he but please to help, first gave it) Shall nee'r be worn upon a heart corrupted; Go to your rest, my modest, honest servant, My fair, and virtuous maid, and sleep secure there, For when you suffer, I forget this sign here. Col. A man of men too: O most perfect Gentleman! Luc. All sweet rest to you sir; I am half a Christian, The other half, I'll pray for; then for you, Sir. Mir. This is the fowlest play I'll shew, good night, sweet.