Chapter IV: Part 4

_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._

_Actus Secundus. Scæna Prima._

[_A Sea-fight within, alarm._

_Enter_ Norandine, Miranda, _and Soldiers, and Gentlemen_.

_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!

_Enter_ Astorius.

_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.

_Enter_ Surgeon.

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?

_Enter Soldiers with booty._

_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.

_Enter Prisoners, and_ Luscinda.

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._

_Scæna Secunda._

_Enter_ Miranda _and_ Astorius.

_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.

_Enter_ Collonna.

_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._

_Scæna Tertia._

_Enter_ Mountferrat _with a Letter, and_ Abdella.

_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._

_Enter_ Miranda.

_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._

_Scæna Quarta._

_Enter_ Norandine _and Doctor_.

_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.

_Enter_ Astor., _and_ Castr.

_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._

_Scæna Quinta._

_Enter two Marshals._

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.

_Enter_ Valetta, Norandine, Astor., Castriot, _&c._

_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.

_Enter_ Oriana, Ladies, Executioner, Abdella, _and Guard_.

_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.

_Enter severally_ Gomera _and_ Miranda.

_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?

_Enter_ Astorius.

_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._

_Actus Tertius. Scæna Prima._

_Enter_ Norandine, _and Servant, Corporal and Soldiers above_.

_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.

[_Corporal and Watch above singing._

SONG.

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.

_Enter_ Cor. _below, and Watch_.

_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._

_Scæna Secunda._

_Enter_ Abdella _with a Letter, and_ Rocca.

_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.

_Enter_ Oriana _and_ Velleda.

_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.

_Enter_ Gomera.

_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?