Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, Vol. 07 of 10

by Francis Beaumont; John Fletcher

The Scene Malta.

The principal Actors were

• Rich. Burbadge,
• Nathan Field,
• John Underwood,
• Rich. Sharpe,
• Henry Condel,
• Robert Benfield,
• John Lowin,
• Thomas Holcome.

---

Actus Primus. Scæna Prima.

Enter Mountferrat.

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.

Enter Rocca.

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.

Enter Astorius and Castriot.

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. Astoris, 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.]

Enter Zanthia, alias Abdella, with two Letters.

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.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter two Gentlewomen.

1. But yfaith dost thou think my Lady was never in love?

2. I rather think she was ever in love: in perfect charity. I mean, with all the world.

[1]. A most Christian answer I promise you: but I mean in Love with a man.

2. With a man? what else? would'st have her in love with a beast?

1. You are somewhat quick: but if she were, it were no President: did you never read of Europa, the fair, that leapt A bull, that leapt the Sea, that swoom to land, and then leapt her?

2. Oh heavens, a bull?

1. Yes, a white bull.

2. Lord, how could she sit him? where did she hold?

1. Why, by the horn, since which time, no woman (almost) is Contented, till she have a horn of her own, to hold by.

2. Thou art very knavish.

1. And thou very foolish: but sirah, why dost not thou marry?

2. Because I would be no mans looking-glase?

1. As how?

2. As thus, there is no Wife, if she be good, and true, will honor, and obey, but must reflect the true countenance of her husband upon him; if he look sad upon her she must not look merrily upon him: if he look merrily, she must not sorrowfully, else she is a false glass, and fit for nothing but breaking: his anger [must] be her discontent; his pleasure, her delight: if he weep, she must cry: if he laugh, she must show her teeth: if he be sick, she must not be in health; if he eat Cawdles, she must eat pottage, she must have no proper passion of her own; and is not this a tyranny?

1. Yes, yfaith, Marriage may well be called a yoak; Wives then are but like superficial lines in Geometry, that have no proper motion of their own, but as their bodies their husbands move, yet I know some Wives, that are never freely merry, nor truly pleased, but when they are farthest off their husbands.

2. That's because the Moon governs 'em which hath most light and shines brightest, the more remote it is from the Sun; and contrary is more sullen, dim, and showes least splendor, when it is neerest.

1. But if I were to marry I would marry a fair effeminate fool.

2. Why?

1. Because I would lead the blind whither I list.

2. And I the wisest man I could get for money, because I had rather follow the cleer-sighted: bless me from a husband That sales by his Wives compass!

1. Why?

2. Why 'tis ten to one but she breaks his head in her youth, and when she is old shee'l never leave till she has broke his back too—

But what scurvy Knight have you here in Malta, &c.

Enter Zanthia.

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.

Scæna Tertia.

Enter (above) Oriana, Zanchia, two Gentlewomen, (beneath) Valetta, Mountferrat, Astorius, Castriot, Gomera, Miranda, Attendants of Knights, &c.

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?

Enter Guard.

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.

Reads the Letter.

Let your Forces by the next even be ready, my Brother feasts then; put in at St. Michaels, the ascent at that Port is easiest; the Keys of the Castle, you shall receive at my hands: that possest, you are Lord of Malta, and may soon destroy all by fire, then which I am hotter, till I embrace you,

Farewell,

Your Wife
ORIANA.

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.

Enter Rocca.

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.

---

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.

Mr. 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.

Mr. 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 Drms 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?

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.

Scæna Tertia.

Enter Collonna and Lucinda.

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.

Scæna Quarta.

Enter Miranda, Norandine, Servants with Lights.

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.

Enter Colonna and Lucinda.

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.

[Exeunt.

---

Actus Quartus. Scæna Prima.

Enter Mountferrat and Rocca.

Mount. THe Sun's not set yet?

Roc. No Sir.

Mount. Would it were,
Never to rise again to light the world.
And yet, to what vain purpose do I wish it.
Since though I were inviron'd with thick mists,
Black as Cymerian darkness, or my crimes,
There is that here, upon which as an anvile
Ten thousand hammers strike, and every spark
They force from it, to me's an other Sun
To light me to my shame?

Roc. Take hope, and comfort.

Mount. They are aides indeed, but yet as far from me,
As I from being innocent: this cave fashion'd
By provident nature, in this solid Rock
To be a den for beasts, alone, receives me,
And having prov'd an enemy to mankind,
All humane helps forsake me.

Roc. I'll nee'r leave you,
And wish you would call back that noble courage
That old invincible fortitude of yours
That us'd to shrink at nothing.

Mount. Then it did not.
But 'twas when I was honest; then in the height
Of all my happiness, of all my glories,
Of all delights, that made life pretious to me
I durst dye Rocca; death it self then to me
Was nothing terrible, because I knew,
The fame of a good Knight would ever live
Fresh on my memory; but since I fell
From my integrity, and dismis'd those guards,
Those strong assurances of innocence,
That constancy fled from me, and what's worse,
Now I am loathsome to my self; and life
A burthen to me, rack'd with sad remembrance
Of what I have done, and my present horrors
Unsufferable to me, tortur'd with despair
That I shall nee'r find mercy: hell about me,
Behind me, and before me, yet I dare not,
Still fearing worse, put off my wretched Being.

Ent[e]r Abdella.

Roc. To see this would deter a doubtful man
From mischievous intents, much more the practice
Of what is wicked: here's the Moore, look up Sir,
Some ease may come from her.

Mount. New trouble rather,
And I expect it.

Abd. Who is this? Mountferrat?
Rise up for shame, and like a river dri'd up
With a long drought, from me, your bounteous Sea
Receive those tides of comfort that flow to you;
If ever I look[t] lovely: if desert.
Could ever challenge welcome; if revenge,
And unexpected wreak, were ever pleasing
Or could endear the giver of such blessings,
All these I come adorn'd with, and, as due,
Make challenge of those so long wish'd embraces
Which you (unkind) have hitherto deny'd me.

Mount. Why, what have you done for me?

Abd. Made Gomera
As truely miserable, as you thought him happy,
Could you wish more?

Mount. As if his sickness could
Recover me; the injuries I receiv'd
Were Oriana's.

Abd. She has paid dear for 'em,
She's dead.

Mount. How?

Abd. Dead; my hate could reach no farther:
Taking advantage of her in a swoon,
Under pretence to give a Cordial to her
I poyson'd her: what stupid dulness is this?
What you should entertain with sacrifice,
Can you receive so coldly?

Mount. Bloody deeds
Are grateful offerings, pleasing to the devill,
And thou, in thy black shape, and bla[c]ker actions
Being hels perfect character, art delighted
To do what I thought infinitely wicked,
Tremble to hear: thou hast, in this taen from me
All means to make amends with penitence,
To her wrong'd virtues, and dispoil'd me of
The poor remainder of that hope was left me,
For all I have already, or must suffer.

Abd. I did it for the best.

Mount. For thy worst ends,
And be assur'd but that, I think to kill thee
Would but prevent, what thy despair must force thee
To do unto thy self, and so to add to
Thy most assur'd damnation, thou wert dead now.
But get thee from my sight: and if lust of me
Did ever fire thee (love I cannot call it)
Leap down from those steep Rocks, or take advantage
Of the next tree to hang thy self, and then
I may laugh at it.

Abd. In the mean time
I must be bold, to do so much for you, ha, ha.

Mount. Why grinst thou, devil?

Abd. That 'tis in my power,
To punish thy ingratitude; I made trial
But how you stood affected, and since I know
I'm us'd only for a property,
I can, and will revenge it to the full.
For understand, in thy contempt of me,
Those hopes of Oriana, which I could
Have chang'd to certainties, are lost for ever.

Mount. Why, lives she?

Abd. Yes, but never to Mountferrat,
Although it is in me, with as much ease
To give her freely up to thy possession,
As to remove this rush; which yet despair of:
For by [my] much wrong'd love, flattery, nor threats,
Tears, prayers, nor vowes, shall ever win me to it:
So with my curse I leave thee.

Mount. Prethee stay,
Thou know'st I dote on thee, and yet thou art
So peevish, and perverse, so apt to take
Triffles unkindly from me.

Abd. To perswade me
To break my neck, to hang, then damn my self,
With you are trifles.

Mount. 'Twas my melancholy
That made me speak I know not what: forgive,
I will redeem my fault.

Roc. Believe him Lady.

Mount. A thousand times I will demand thy pardon,
And keep the reckoning on thy lips with kisses.

Abd. There's something else, that would prevail more with me.

Mount. Thou shalt have all thy wishes do but bless me
With means to satisfie my mad desires
For once in Oriana and for ever
I am thine, only thine my best Abdella.

Abd. Were I assur'd of this, and that you would
Having enjoy'd her—

Mount. Any thing: make choice of
Thine own conditions.

Abd. Swear then, that perform'd,
(To free me from all doubts and fears hereafter)
To give me leave to kill her.

Mount. That our safety
Must of necessity urge us to.

Abd. Then know
It was not poyson, but a sleeping potion
Which she receiv'd; yet of sufficient strength
So to bind up her sences, that no sign
Of life appear'd in her: and thus thought dead,
In her best habit, as the custom is
You know in Malta, with all ceremonies
She's buried in her families monument,
In the Temple of St. John; I'll bring you thither,
Thus, as you are disguis'd; some six hours hence
The potion will leave working.

Roc. Let us haste then.

Mount. Be my good angel, guide me.

Abd. But remember,
You keep your Oath.

Mount. As I desire to prosper
In what I undertake.

Abd. I ask no more. [Exeunt.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter Miranda, Norandine, and Collonna.

Col. Here sir, I have got the Key; I borrow'd it
Of him that keeps the Church, the door is open.

Mir. Look to the horses then, and please the fellow.
After a few devotions, I'll retire.
Be not far off, there may be some use of ye,
Give me the light: come friend, a few good prayers
Were not bestow'd in vain now, even from you Sir.
Men that are bred in blood, have no way left 'em,
No bath, no purge, no time to wear it out
Or wash it off, but penitence, and prayer:
I am to take the order, and my youth
Loaden I must confess with many follies,
Circled and bound about with sins as many
As in the house of memory live figures.
My heart I'll open now, my faults confess,
And raise a new man, heaven, I hope, to a new life.

Nor. I have no great devotion, at this instant,
But for a prayer or two, I will not out Sir,
Hold up your finger, when you have pray'd enough.

Mir. Go you to that end.

Nor. I shall nee'r pray alone sure, I have been so us'd to answer the Clerk: would I had a cushion, for I shall ne'r make a good Hermit, and kneel till my knees are horn, these stones are plaguy hard; where shall I begin now? for if I do not observe a method, I shall be out presently.

Ori. Oh, oh.

Nor. What's that Sir? did ye hear?

Mir. Ha; to your prayers.

Nor. 'Twas here abouts, t'has put me clean aw[r]y now,
I shall nee'r get in again, ha, by Land,
And water, all children, and all women,
I there it was I left.

Ori. Oh, oh.

Nor. Never tell me Sir,
Here's something got amongst us.

Mir. I heard a groan:
A dismal one,—

Ori. Oh, oh.

Nor. Here, 'tis here Sir, 'tis here Sir;
A devil in the wall.

Mir. 'Tis some illusion
To fright us from devotion—

Ori. Oh, oh.

Nor. Why 'tis here,
The spirit of a huntesman choak'd with butter:
Here's a new tomb, new trickments too.

Mir. For certain,
This has not been three days here.

Nor. And a Tablet
With rimes upon't.

Mir. I prethee read 'em Norandine.

Nor. An Epi—and Epi—taff. I think 'tis, I 'tis taff, an Epitaff.
Upon the most excell, excell—lent—and.

Mir. Thou canst not read.

Nor. I have spoyl'd mine eyes with gunpowder.

Mir. An Epitaph upon the most virtuous, and excellent Lady
The honor of Chastity, Oriana.

Nor. The grand masters sister: how a devil came she here?
When slipt she out o'th'way, the stone's but half upon her.

Mir. 'Tis a sodain change: certain the mischief

Mountferrat offer'd to her broak her heart-strings.

Nor. Would he were here, I would be the clerk my self,
And by this little light, I would bury him alive here:
Here's no lamenting now.

Ori. Oh, oh.

Nor. There 'tis.

Mir. Sure from the monument, the very stone groanes for her.
Oh, dear Lady: blessing of women, virtue of thy sex;
How art thou set for ever, how stol'n from us.
Babling, and prating now converse with women.

Nor. Sir, it rises, it looks up. [She rises up.

Mir. Heaven bless us.

Nor. It is in womans cloathes, it rises higher.

Mir. It looks about, and wonders, sure she lives Sir.
'Tis she, 'tis Oriana, 'tis that Lady.

Nor. Shall I go to her?

Ori. Where am I!

Mir. Stand still.

Ori. What place is this?

Nor. She is as live as I am.

Ori. What smell of earth, and rotten bones, what dark place?
Lord, whither am I carried?

Nor. How she stares,
And sets her eyes upon him.

Mir. How is't dear Lady?
Do you know me, how she shakes!

Ori. You are a man.

Mir. A man that honors you.

Ori. A cruel man,
Ye are all cruel: are you in your grave too?
For there's no trusting cruel man, above ground.

Nor. Byr'Lady that goes hard.

Mir. To do you service
And to restore ye to the joys you were in.

Ori. I was in joyes indeed, and hope—

Mir. She sinks again
Again she's gone; she's gone: gone as a shadow,
She sinks for ever, friend.

Nor. She is cold now,
She is certainly departed, I must cry too.

Mir. The blessed angels guide thee: put the stone too,
Beauty thou art gone to dust, goodness to ashes.

Nor. Pray take it well: we must all have our hours Sir.

Mir. I, thus we are; and all our painted glory,
A buble that a boy blows in to th' ayr,
And there it breaks.

Nor. I am glad ye sav'd her honor yet.

Mir. Would I had sav'd her life now too: oh heaven
For such a blessing, such a timely blessing
O friend, what dear content 'twould be, what story
To keep my name from worms!

Ori. Oh, oh.

Nor. She lives again.
'Twas but a trance.

Mir. Pray ye call my man in presently
Help with the stone first, oh she stirs again.
Oh call my man away.

Nor. I fly, I fly Sir.

Mir. Upon my knees O heaven, O heaven I thank thee.

Enter Colonna, and Norand.

The living heat steals into every member;
Come help the Coffin out softly, and sodainly;
Where is the Clerk?

Col. Drunk above he is sure Sir.

Mir. Sirrah, you must be secret.

Col. As your soul Sir.

Mir. Softly good friend, take her into your armes.

Nor. Put in the crust again.

Mir. And bring her out there when I am a horseback
My man, and I will tenderly conduct her
Unto the Fort; stay you, and watch what issue,
And what inquirie's for the body.

Nor. Well Sir.

Mir. And when ye have done, come back to me.

Nor. I will.

Mir. Softly, oh softly.

Nor. She grows warmer still Sir.

Col. What shall I do with the Key?

Mir. Thou canst not stir now,
Leave it ith'door, go get the horses ready. [Exeunt.

Enter Rocca, Mountferrat, Abdella, with a dark Lanthorn.

Roc. The door's already open, the Key in it.

Mount. What were those past by?

Roc. Some scout of Soldiers, I think.

Mount. It may well be so, for I saw their horses:
They saw not us I hope.

Abd. No, no, we were close,
Beside they were far off.

Mount. What time of night is't?

Abd. Much about twelve I think.

Roc. Let me go in first
For by the leaving open of the door here
There may be some body in the Church: give me the Lanthorne.

Abd. You'll love me now I hope.

Mount. Make that good to me
Your promise is engaged for.

Abd. Why she is there
Ready prepar'd, and much about this time
Life will look up again.

Roc. Come in all's sure,
Not a foot stirring, nor a tongue.

Mount. Heaven bless me,
I never enter'd with such unholy thoughts
This place before.

Abd. Ye are a fearful fool,
If men have appetites allow'd 'em,
And warm desires, are there not ends too for 'em?

Mount. Whether shall we carry her?

Roc. Why, to the bark, Sir,
I have provided one already waits us;
The wind stands wondrous fair too for our passage.

Ad. And there when ye have enjoy'd her, for ye have that liberty
Let me alone to send her to feed fishes:
I'll no more sighs for her.

Mount. Where is the monument?
Thou art sure she will awake about this time?

Abd. Most sure, if she be not knockt oth'head: give me the Lanthorn,
Here 'tis, how is this, the stone off?

Roc. I, and nothing
Within the monument, that's worse; no body
I am sure of that, nor sign of any here,
But an empty Coffin.

Mount. No Lady?

Roc. No, nor Lord Sir,
This Pye has been cut up before.

Abd. Either the Devil
Must do these tricks—

Mount. Or thou, damn'd one, worse;
Thou black swoln pitchy cloud, of all my afflictions:
Thou night hag, gotten when the bright Moon suffer'd:
Thou hell it self confin'd in flesh: what trick now?
Tell me, and tell me quickly what thy mischief
Has done with her, and to what end, and whether
Thou hast remov'd her body, or by this holy place
This Sword shall cut thee into thousand pieces,
A thousand thousand, strow thee ore the Temple
A sacrifice to thy black sire, the Devil.

Ro[c]. Tell him, you see he's angry.

Abd. Let him burst,
Neither his sword, nor anger do I shake at,
Nor will yield to feed his poor suspitions,
His idle jealousies, and mad dogs heats
One thought against my self: ye have done a brave deed;
A manly, and a valiant piece of Service:
When ye have kill'd me, reckon't amongst your Battels;
I am sorry ye are so poor, so weak a Gentleman,
Able to stand no fortune: I dispose of her?
My mischief make her away? a likely project,
I must play booty against my self, if any thing cross ye,
I am the devil, and the devils heir,
All plagues, all mischiefs.

Mount. Will ye leave and do yet?

Ab. I have done too much,
Far, far too much, for such a thankless fellow,
If I be devil, you created me;
I never knew those arts, nor bloody practises
(—— o'your cunning heart, that mine of mischief)
Before your flatteries won 'em into me.
Here did I leave her, leave her with that certainty
About this hour to wake again.

Mount. Where is she?
This is the last demand.

Ab. Did I now know it,
And were I sure, this were my latest minute,
I would not tell thee: strike, and then I'll curse thee:

Roc. I see a light, stand close, and leave your angers.
We all miscarry else.

Enter Gomera, Page with Torch.

Ab. I am now careless.

Mount. Peace, prethee peace, sweet, peace, all friends.

Abd. Stand close then.

Gom. Wait there Boy, with the light, till I call to thee:
In darkness was my soul and sences clouded
When my fair Jewel fell, the night of jealousie,
In all her blackness drawn about my judgment:
No light was let into me, to distinguish
Betwixt my suddain anger and her honor,
A blind sad Pilgrimage shall be my pennance,
No comfort of the day will I look up at:
Far darker than my jealous Ignorance
Each place of my aboad shall be my prayers
No ceremonious lights shall set off more:
Bright Armes, and all that carry lustre, life,
Society, and solace, I forsake ye.
And were it not once more to see her beauties,
(For in her bed of death, she must be sweet still,)
And on her cold sad lips seal my repentance;
Thou child of heaven, fair light I could not miss thee.

Mount. I know the tongue, would I were out again,
I have done him too much wrong to look upon him.

Ab. There is no shifting now, boldness, and confidence
Must carry it now away: he is but one neither,
Naked as you are, of a strength far under.

Mount. But he has a cause above me.

Ab. That's as you handle it.

Roc. Peace: he may go again, and never see us.

Gom. I feel I weep apace, but where's the flood,
The torrent of my tears, to drown my fault in?
I would I could now, like a loaden cloud,
Begotten in the moist south, drop to nothing.
Give me the Torch, Boy.

Roc. Now he must discover us.

Ab. He has already, never hide your head
Be bold and brave, if we must dye together.

Gom. Who's there? what friend to sorrow? The Tomb wide open
The Stone off too? the body gone, by ——
Look to the door Boy: keep it fast, who are ye?
What sacrilegious villains? false Mountferrat,
The woolf to honor, has thy hellish hunger,
Brought thee to tear the body out oth'tomb too?
Has thy foul mind so far wrought on thee? ha,
Are you there too? nay, then I spie a villany
I never dream'd of yet, thou sinful usher
Bred from that rottenness, th[ou] bawd to mischief,
Do you blush through all your blackness? will not that hide it?

Ab. I cannot speak.

Gom. You are well met, with your dam, Sir,
Art thou a Knight? did ever on that sword,
The Christian cause sit nobly? could that hand fight,
Guided by fame, and fortune? that heart inflame thee,
With virtuous fires of valor, to fall off,
Fall off so suddainly, and with such foulness,
As the false Angels did, from all their glory?
Thou art no Knight, honor thou never heard'st of,
Nor brave desires could ever build in that breast.
Treason, and tainted thoughts, are all the Gods
Thou worship'st, all the strength thou hadst, and fortune;
Thou didst things out of fear, and false heart, villain
Out of close traps and treacheries, they have raised thee.

Mount. Thou rav'st old man.

Gom. Before thou get'st off from me,
Hadst thou the glory of thy first fi[gh]ts on thee
Which thou hast basely lost, thy noblest fortunes,
And in their greatest lustres, I would make thee,
Before we part, confess, nay, kneel, and do it,
Nay, crying kneel, coldly, for mercy, crying:
Thou art the recreant'st Rogue, time ever nourished, stav'd,
Thou art a dog, I will make thee swear, a dog
A mangy Cur-dog; do you creep behind the Altar?
Look how it sweats, to shelter such a rascall;
First, with thy venemous tooth infect her chast life,
And then not dare to do; next, rob her rest,
Steal her dead body out oth'grave.

Mount. I have not.

Gom. Prethee come out, this is no place to quarrel in,
Valiant Mountferrat come.

Mount. I will not stir.

Gom. Thou hast thy sword about thee,
That good sword, that never faill'd thee: prethee come,
We'll have but five stroaks for it; on, on Boy,
Here's one would fain be acquainted with thee,
Would wondrous fain cleave that Calves-head of yours Sir,
Come, prethee let's dispatch, the Moon shines finely:
Prethee be kill'd by me, thou wilt be hang'd else,
But it may be, thou long'st to be hang'd.

Roc. Out with him, Sir,
You shall have my sword too: when he's dispatch'd once,
We have the world before us.

Gom. Wilt thou walk fellow,
I never knew a Rogue, hang arse-ward so,
And such a desperate knave too.

Ab. Pray go with him,
Something I'll promise too.

Mount. You would be kill'd then?
No remedy; I see.

Gom. If thou dar'st do it?

Mount. Yes, now I dare; lead out, I'll follow presently
Under the Mount I'll meet ye.

Gom. Go before me,
I'll have ye in a string too.

Mount. As I am a Gentleman,
And by this holy place I will not fail thee,
Fear not, thou shalt be kill'd, take my word for it
I will not fail.

Gom. If thou scap'st thou hast Cats luck.
The Mount?

Mount. The same: make hast, I am there before else.

Gom. Go get ye home; now if he scape I am a Coward.

Mount. Well, now I am resolv'd, and he shall find it.

[Exeunt.

Scæna Tertia.

Enter Miranda, Lucinda, Collonna.

Mir. How is it with the Lady?

Luc. Sir, as well
As it can be with one, who feeling knowes now
What is the curse the divine justice lay'd
On the first sinful woman.

Mir. Is she in travel?

Luc. Yes sir; and yet the troubles of her mind
Afflict her more, than what her body suffers,
For in the extremity of her pain, she cryes out,
Why am I here? Where is my Lord Gomera,
Then sometimes names Miranda, and then sighes,
As if to speak, what questionless she loves well,
If heard, mig[ht] do her injury.

Col. Heavens sweet mercy
Look gently on her.

Mir. Prethee tell her, my Prayers
Are present with her, and good wench provide
That she want nothing: what's thy name?

Luc. Lucinda.

Mir. Lucinda? there's a prosperous omen in it,
Be a Lucinda to her, and bring word
That she is safe delivered of her burthen,
And thy reward's thy liberty: come Collonna,
We will go see how th'Engineer has mounted
The Cannon the great Master sent, be careful
To view the works, and learn the discipline
That is us'd here: I am to leave the world
And for your service, which I have found faithful,
The charge that's mine, if I have any power
Hereafter may concern you.

Col. I still find
A noble Master in you.

Mir. 'Tis but justice,
Thou do'st deserve it in thy care, and duty. [Exeunt.

Scæna Quarta.

Enter Gomera, Mountferrat, Rocca, Abdella, with a Pistol.

Gom. Here's even ground, I'll stir no foot beyond it,
Before I have thy head.

Mount. Draw Rocca.

Gom. Coward,
Hath inward guilt, robb'd thee as well of courage
As honesty? that without odds thou dar'st not
Answer a single Enemy?

Mount. All advantage
That I can take, expect.

Roc. We know you are valiant,
Nor do we purpose to make farther trial
Of what you can do now: but to dispatch you.

Mount. And therefore fight, and pray together.

Gom. Villains,
Whose baseness, all disgraceful words made one,
Cannot express; so strong is the good cause
That seconds me, that you shall feel, with horror
To your proud hopes, what strength is in that arm,
Though old, that holds a sword made sharp by justice.

Ab. You come then here, to prate? [Fight.

Mount. Help Rocca, now,
Or I am lost for ever; how comes this?
Are villany and weakness twyns?

Roc. I am gone too.

Gom. You shall not scape me, wretches.

Ab. I must do it,
All will go wrong else. [Shoots him.

[G]om. Treacherous bloody woman,
What hast thou done?

Ab. Done a poor womans part,
And in an instant, what these men so long
Stood fooling for.

Mount. This ayd was unexpected,
I kiss thee for't.

Roc. His right arms only shot,
And that compell'd him to forsake his sword,
He's else unwounded.

Mount. Cut his throat.

Ab. Forbear.
Yet do not hope 'tis with intent to save thee.
But that thou mayst live to thy farther torment,
To see who triumphs over thee: come Mountferrat,
Here join thy foot to mine, and let our hearts
Meet with our hands, the contract that is made
And cemented with blood, as this of ours is,
Is a more holy sanction, and much surer,
Than all the superstitious ceremonies
You Christians use.

Enter Norandine.

Roc. Who's this?

Mount. Betray'd again?

Nor. By the report it made, and by the wind
The Pistol was discharg'd here.

Gom. Norandine.
As ever thou lov'st valor, or wear'st Arms
To punish baseness, shew it.

Nor. O the devil,
Gomera wounded, and my Brache black beauty
An actor in it?

Ab. If thou strik'st, I'll shoot thee.

Nor. How? fright me with your Pot-gun? what art thou?
Good heaven, the Rogue, the traytor rogue Mountferrat,
To swinge the nest of you, is a sport unlook'd for,
Hels —— consume you.

Mount. As thou art a man,
I am wounded, give me time to answer thee.

Gom. Durst thou urge this? this hand can hold a sword yet.

Nor. Well done: to see this villain, makes my hurts
Bleed fresh again, but had I not a bone whole,
In such a cause I should do thus, thus Rascals.

Enter Corporal and watch.

Cor. Disarm them, and shoot any that resists.

Gom. Hold Corporal; I am Gomera.

Nor. 'Tis well yet, that once in an age you can
Remember what you watch for: I had thought
You had again been making out your parties
For sucking piggs.
'Tis well: As you will answer
The contrary with your lives, see these forth coming.

Cor. That we shall do.

Nor. You bleed apace: good Soldiers
Go help him to a Surgeon.

Roc. Dare the worst,
And suffer like your self.

Ab. From me learn courage.

Nor. Now for Miranda, this news will be to him
As welcome as 'tis unexpected: Corporal,
There's something for thy care to night; my horse there. [Exeunt.

---

Actus Quintus. Scæna Prima.

Enter Oriana, and Lucinda.

Ori. HOw do's my Boy?

Luc. Oh, wondrous lusty Madam,
A little Knight already: you shall live
To see him toss a Turk.

Ori. Gentle Lucinda,
Much must I thank thee for thy care, and service.

Enter Miranda, Norandine, Colonna.

And may I grow but strong to see Valetta,
My husband, and my brother, thou shalt find
I will not barely thank thee.

Mir. Look Captain, we must ride away this morning
The Auberge sits to day, and the great Master
Writes plainly, I must or deliver in
(The year expir'd) my probation weed,
Or take the Cloak: you likewise Norandine
For your full service, and your last assistance
In false Mountferrats apprehension
Are here commanded to associate me; my twin in this high honor.

Nor. I'll none on't: do they think to bind me to live chast, sober, and temperately, all days of my life? they may as soon tye an Englishman to live so; I shall be a sweet Dane, a sweet Captain, go up and down drinking small beer, and swearing 'ods neagues, no, I'll live a Squire at Arms still, and do thou so too; and thou beest wise: I have found the mystery now, why the Gentlemen wear but three bars of the cross, and the Knights the whole one.

Mir. Why Captain?

Nor. Marry Sir, to put us in remembrance, we are but three quarters cross'd in our licence, and pleasures: but the poor Knights cross'd altogether; the brothers at Arms, may yet meet with their Sisters at Arms, now and then, in brotherly love; but the poor Knights cannot get a Lady for love, nor money: 'tis not so in other Countries I wis, pray haste you, for I'll along, and see what will come on't. [Exit.

Mir. Collonna, provide strait, all necessaries
For this remove, the Lytter for the Lady,
And let Lucinda bear her company,
You shall attend on me.

Col. With all my duties. [Exit.

Mir. How fare you gracious Mistriss?

Ori. O Miranda.
You pleas'd to honor me with that fair title
When I was free, and could dispose my self;
But now, no smile, no word, no look, no touch
Can I impart to any, but as theft
From my Gomera, and who dares accept,
Is an usurper.

Mir. Leave us; I have touch'd thee,
(Thou fairer virtue, than thou'rt beautiful)
Hold but this test, so rich an ore was never

[Altar ready, tapers and booke.

Tryed by the hand of man, on the vast earth:
Sit brightest Oriana, is it sin
Still to profess I love you, still to vow
I shall do ever? heaven my witness be,
'Tis not your eye, your cheek, your tongue, no part
That superficially doth snare young men,
Which has caught me; read over in your thoughts
The story that this man hath made of you,
And think upon his merit.

Ori. Only thought
Can comprehend it.

Mir. And can you be so
Cruel, thankless, to destroy his youth
That say'd your honor, gave you double life?
Your own, and your fair Infants? that when fortune
(The blind foe to all beauty, that is good,)
Bandied you from one hazard to another,
Was even heavens Messenger, by providence
Call'd to the Temple, to receive you there,
Into these Arms, to give ease to your throwes,
As if't had thunder'd; take thy due Miranda,
For she was thine; Gomera's jealousie
Struck death unto thy heart; to him be dead,
And live to me, that gave thee second life:
Let me but now enjoy thee: Oh regard
The torturing fires of my affections.

Ori. Oh master them, Miranda, as I mine;
Who follows his desires, such tyrants serves
As will oppress him insupportably.
My flames, Miranda, rise as high as thine,
For I did love thee 'fore my marriage,
Yet would I now consent, or could I think
Thou wert in earnest, (which by all the souls
That have (for chastity) been sanctified
I cannot) in a moment I do know
Thou'ldst call fair temperance up to rule thy blood,
Thy eye was ever chaste, thy countenance too honest,
And all thy wooings was like Maidens talk;
Who yieldeth unto pleasures, and to lust
Is a poor captive, that in Golden Fetters
(And pretious (as he thinks) but holding gyves)
Frets out his life.

Mir. Find such another woman,
And take her for his labour, any man:

Ori. I was not worthy of thee, at my best,
Heaven knew I was not, I had had thee else;
Much less now gentle Sir; Miranda's deeds
Have been as white as Oriana's fame,
From the beginning to this point of time,
And shall we now begin to stain both thus?
Think on the legend which we two shall breed
Continuing as we are, for chastest dames
And boldest Soldiers to peruse and read,
I and read thorough, free from any act
To cause the modest cast the book away,
And the most honour'd Captain fold it up.

Mir. Fairest; let go my hand: my pulse beats thick,
And my mov'd blood, rides high in every vain,
Lord of thy self now, Soldier, and ever:
I would not for Aleppo, this frail Bark,
This bark of flesh, no better steers-man had
Than has Mountferrat's: may you kiss me, Lady?

Ori. No; though't be no essential injury,
It is a circumstance due to my Lord,
To none else: and my dearest friend, if hands
Playing together, kindle heat in you,
What may the game at Lips provoke unto?

Mir. Oh what a tongue is here! whil'st she doth teach
My heart to hate my fond unlawful love,
She talks me more in love, with love to her,
My fires she quencheth with her arguments,
But as she breathes 'em, they blow fresher fires.
Sit further: now my flame cools; Husband, Wife,
There is some holy mystery in those names
That sure the unmarried cannot understand.

Ori. Now thou art strait, and dost enamour me,
So far beyond a carnal earthly love;
My very soul doats on thee, and my spirits
Do embrace thine, my mind doth thy mind kiss,
And in this pure conjunction we enjoy
A heavenlier pleasure than if bodies met:
This, this is perfect love, the other short,
Yet languishing fruition, every Swain
And sweating Groom may clasp, but ours refin'd
Two in ten ages cannot reach unto;
Nor is our spiritual love, a barren joy,
For mark what blessed issue we'll beget,
Dearer than children to posterity,
A great example to mens continence,
And womens chastity, that is a child
More fair and comfortable, than any heir.

Mir. If all wives were but such, lust would not find
One corner to inhabit, sin would be
So strange, remission superfluous:
But one petition, I have done.

Ori. What (Sweet)?

Mir. To call me Lord, if the hard hand of death
Seize on Gomera first.

Ori. Oh, much too worthy;
How much you undervalue your own price,
To give your unbought self, for a poor woman,
That has been once sold, us'd, and lost her show?
I am a garment worn, a vessel crack'd,
A Zone unti'd, a Lilly trode upon,
A fragrant Flower cropt by another hand,
My colour sully'd, and my odo[r] chang'd,
If when I was new blossom'd, I did fear
My self unworthy of Miranda's spring:
Thus over-blown, and seeded, I am rather
Fit to adorn his Chimney, than his bed.

Mir. Rise miracle: save Malta, with thy virtue,
If words could make me proud, how has she spoke,
Yet I will try her to the very block:
Hard-hearted, and uncivil Oriana,
Ingrateful payer of my Industries,
That with a soft painted hypocrisie
Cozen'st, and jeer'st my perturbation,
Expect a witty, and a fell revenge:
My comfort is, all men will think thee false,
Beside thy Husband having been thus long
(On this occasion) in my Fort, and power.

Enter Nor. Collonna, & Lucinda, with a Child.

I'll hear no more words: Captain, let's away
With all care see to her: and you Lucinda
Attend her diligently: she is a wonder.

Nor. Have you found she was well deliver'd:
What, had she a good Midwife, is all well?

Mir. You are merry Norandine.

Luc. Why weep you, Lady?

Ori. Take the poor Babe along.

Col. Madam, 'tis here.

Ori. Dissembling death, why didst thou let me live
To see this change, my greatest cause to grieve? [Exeunt.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter Astorius, Castriot, Valetta, Gomera, Synnet, Knights, two Bishops, Mountferrat guarded by Corporal and Soldiers, Abdella, a Gentleman with a Cloak, sword, and Spurrs: Gomera.

Val. A tender Husband hast thou shew'd thy self
My dearest brother, and thy memory
After my life in brazen Characters;
Shall monumentally be register'd
To ages consequent, till times running hand,
Beats back the world, to undistinguished Chaos,
And on the top of that thy name shall stand
Fresh, and without decay.

Gom. Oh honor'd Sir!
If hope of this, or any bliss to come,
Could lift my load of grief off from my soul,
Or expiate the trespass 'gainst my wife,
That in one hours suspition I begat,
I might be won to be a man again,
And fare like other Husbands, sleep and eat,
Laugh, and forget my pleasing penitence;
But till old nature can make such a wife
Again, I vow ne'r to resume the order
And habits that to men are necessary,
All breath I'll spend in sighs, all sound in groans,
And know no company but my wasting moans.

Ast. This will be wilful murder on your self,
Nor like a Christian do you bear the chance
Which th' inscrutable Will of Heaven admits.

Gom. What would you have my weakness do, that
Suffer'd it self thus to be practis'd on,
By a damn'd hell-hound, and his agent dam,
The impious Midwife, to abortive births,
And cruel instrument to his decrees?
By forgery they first assail'd her life,
Heaven playing with us yet, in that, he wrought
My dearest friend, the servant to her virtue
To combat me, against his Mistriss truth.
That yet effectless, this enchanting Witch,
Bred baneful jealousie against my Lady,
My most immaculate Lady, which seiz'd on her
Almost to death: Oh yet! not yet content,
She in my hand put (to restore her life
As I imagin'd) what did execute
Their devilish malice, farther, great with child,
Was this poor innocent, that too was lost,
They doubled death upon her, not staying there,
They have done violence unto her Tomb,
Not granting rest unto her in the grave:
I wish Miranda had enjoy'd my prize;
For sure I'm punish'd for usurping her,
Oh what a Tyger is resisted Lust!
How it doth forrage all!

Mount. Part of this tale
I grant you true; but 'twas not poison given her?

Ab. I would it had, we had been far enough,
If we had been so wise, and had not now
Stood curtesing for your mercies here.

Mount. Beside,
What is become o' th' body? we know not.

Val. Peace impudence,
And dear Gomera practice patience
As I my self must, by some means at last
We shall dissolve this Riddle.

Gom. Wherefore comes
This villain in this festival array,
As if he triumph'd for his treachery?

Cast. That is by our appointment: give us leave,
You shall know why anon.

Enter Miranda, Norandine, Collona.

Val. One of the Esguard.

Esg. The Gentlemen are come.

Val. Truce then awhile,
With our sad thoughts; what are you both resolv'd?

Nor. Not I my Lord, your down-right Captain still
I'll live, and serve you, not that altogether
I want compunction of conscience,
I have enough to save me, and that's all,
Bar me from drink, and drabs, ev'n hang me too,
You must ev'n make your Captains Capons first,
I have too much flesh for this spiritual Knighthood,
And therefore do desire forbearance, Sir,
Till I am older, or more mortifi'd,
I am too sound yet.

Val. What say you Miranda?

Mir. With all pure zeal to Heaven, duty to you,
I come to undergo it.

Val. Proceed to th' ceremony.

Gom. Before you match with this bright honor'd title,
Admir'd Miranda, pardon what in thought
I ever did transgress against your virtue;
And may you find more joy with your new Bride
Than poor Gomera e'r enjoy'd with his,
But 'twas mine own crime, and I suffer for't:
Long wear your dignity, and worthily,
Whilst I obscurely in some corner vanish.

Mir. Have stronger thoughts, and better, first I crave
According to the order of the Court
I may dispose my Captives, and the Fort,
That with a clean and purified heart
The fitlier I may endue my Robe.

All. 'Tis granted.

Enter Oriana vail'd, Ladies, Lucinda, Child.

Mir. Bring the Captives. To your charge
And staid tuition, my most noble friend;
I then commend this Lady; start not off
A fairer, and a chaster never liv'd;
By her own choice you are her Guardian,
For telling her I was to leave my Fort,
And to abandon quite all worldly cares.
Her own request was, to Gomera's hands
She might be given in custody, for sh'ad heard
He was a Gentleman wise, and temperate,
Full of humanity to Women-kind,
And 'cause he had been married, knew the better
How to entreat a Lady.

Val. What Countrey-woman is she?

Mir. Born a Greek.

Val. Gomera, 'twill be barbarous to denie
A Lady, that unto your refuge flies,
And seeks to shrowd her under virtues wing.

Gom. Excuse me noble Sir; oh think me not
So dull a devil, to forget the loss
Of such a matchless wife as I possess'd,
And ever to endure the sight of woman:
Were she the abstract of her sex for form,
The only warehouse of perfection.
Were there no Rose nor Lilly but her Cheek,
No Musick but her tongue, Virtue but hers;
She must not rest near me, my vow is graven,
Here in my heart, irrevocably breath'd
And when I break it.

Ast. This is rudeness Spaniard,
Unseasonably you play the Timonist,
Put on a disposition is not yours,
Which neither fits you, nor becomes you.

Gom. Sir.

Cast. We cannot force you, but we would perswade.

Com. Beseech you Sir, no more, I am resolv'd
To forsake Malta, tread a pilgrimage
To fair Jerusalem, for my Ladies soul,
And will not be diverted.

Mir. You must bear
This Child along w'ye then.

Gom. What Child?

All. How's this?

Mir. Nay then Gomera, thou art injurious,
This Child is thine, and this rejected Lady
Thou hast as often known, as thine own wife,
And this I'll make good on thee, with my sword.

Gom. Thou durst as well blaspheme: if such a scandal—
(I crave the rights due to a Gentleman)
Woman unvail.

Ori. Will you refuse me yet?

Gom. My Wife!

Val. My Sister!

Gom. Some body, thank Heaven
I cannot speak.

All. All praise be ever given:

Mount. This saves our lives, yet would she had been dead;
The very sight of her afflicts me more
Than fear of punishment, or my disgrace.

Val. How came you to the Temple?

Mir. Sir, to do
My poor devotions, and to offer thanks
For scaping a temptation near perform'd
With this fair Virgin. I restore a wife
Earth cannot parallel: and busie nature
If thou wilt still make women, but remember
To work 'em by this sampler; take heed, Sir,
Henceforth you never doubt, Sir.

Gom. When I do
Death take me suddainly.

Mir. To increase your happiness
To your best wife take this addition.

Gom. Alack my poor knave.

Val. The confession
The Moor made 't seems was truth.

Nor. Marry was it Sir; the only truth that ever issued out of hell, which her black jawes resemble; a plague o' your bacon-face, you must be giving drinks with a vengeance; ah thou branded bitch: do' ye stare goggles, I hope to make winter-boots o' thy hide yet, she fears not damning: hell fire cannot parch her blacker than she is: d' ye grin, chimney-sweeper.

Ori. What is't Miranda?

Mir. That you would please Lucinda might attend you.

Col. That suit Sir, I consent not to.

Luc. My husband?
My dearest Angelo?

Nor. More Jiggam-bobs; is not this the fellow that swom
Like a duck to th' shore in our sea-service?

Col. The very same, do not you know me now, Sir,
My name is Angelo, though Colonna vail'd it,
Your Countrey-man and kinsman born in Florence,
Who from the neighbor-Island here of Goza
Was captive led, in that unfortunate day
When the Turk bore with him three thousand souls;
Since in Constantinople have I liv'd
Where I beheld this Turkish Damsel first.
A tedious suitor was I for her love,
And pittying such a beauteous case should hide
A soul prophan'd with infidelity,
I labour'd her conversion with my love,
And doubly won her; to fair faith her soul
She first betroth'd, and then her faith to me,
But fearful there to consummate this contract
We fled, and in that flight were ta'en again
By those same Gallies, 'fore Valetta fought.
Since in your service I attended her,
Where, what I saw, and heard, hath joy'd me more
Than all my past afflictions griev'd before.

Val. Wonders crown wonders: take thy wife Miranda.
Be henceforth call'd our Malta's better Angel,
And thou her evil Mountferrat.

Nor. We'll call him Cacodemon, with his black gib there, his Succuba, his devils seed, his spawn of Phlegeton, that o' my conscience was bred o' the spume of Cocitus; do ye snarle you black Jill? she looks like the Picture of America.

Val. Why stay we now.

Mir. This last petition to the Court,
I may bequeath the keeping of my Fort
To this my kinsman, toward the maintenance
Of him, and his fair virtuous wife; discreet,
Loyal, and valiant I dare give him you.

Val. You must not ask in vain, Sir.

Col. My best thanks
To you my noble Cosin, and my service
To the whole Court; may I deserve this bounty.

Val. Proceed to th' ceremony, one of our Esguard
Degrade Mountferrat first.

Mount. I will not sue
For mercy, 'twere in vain; fortune thy worst. [Musick.

An Altar discover'd, with Tapers, and a Book on it. The two Bishops stand on each side of it; Mountferrat, as the Song is singing, ascends up the Altar.

See, see, the stain of honor, virtues foe,
Of Virgins fair fames, the foul overthrow,
That broken hath his oath of chastity
Dishonor'd much this holy dignity,
Off with his Robe, expell him forth this place,
Whilst we rejoyce, and sing at his disgrace.

Val. Since by thy actions thou hast made thy self
Unworthy of that worthy sign thou wear'st,
And of our sacred order, into which
For former virtues we receiv'd thee first,
According to our Statutes, Ordinances,
For praise unto the good, a terror to
The bad, and an example to all men;
We here deprive thee of our habit, and
Declare thee unworthy our society,
From which we do expell thee, as a rotten
Corrupted and contagious member.

Esq. Using th' authority th' Superior
Hath given unto me, I untie this knot,
And take from thee the pleasing yoak of heaven:
We take from off thy breast this holy cross
Which thou hast made thy burthen, not thy prop;
Thy spurs we spoil thee of, leaving thy heels
Bare of thy honor, that have kick'd against
Our Orders precepts: next we reave thy sword,
And give thee armless to thy enemies,
For being foe to goodness, and to Heaven,
Last, 'bout thy stiff neck, we this halter hang,
And leave thee to the mercy of thy Court.

Val. Invest Miranda.

SONG.

Fair child of virtue, honors bloom
That here with burning zeal dost come
With joy to ask the white cross cloak,
And yield unto this pleasing yoak
That being young, vows chastity,
And choosest wilful poverty;
As this flame mounts, so mount thy zeal, thy glory
Rise past the Stars, and fix in Heaven thy story.

1 Bish. Wha[t] crave you, gentle Sir?

Mir. Humble admittance
To be a brother of the holy Hospital
Of great Jerusalem.

2 Bish. Breathe out your vow.

Mir. To heaven, and all the bench of Saints above
Whose succor I implore t' enable me,
I vow henceforth a chaste life, not to enjoy
Any thing proper to my self; obedience
To my Superiors, whom Religion,
And Heaven shall give me: ever to defend
The virtuous fame of Ladies, and to oppugne
Even unto death the Christian enemy,
This do I vow to accomplish.

Esq. Who can tell,
Has he made other vow, or promis'd marriage
To any one, or is in servitude?

All. He's free from all these.

1 Bish. Put on his spurs, and girt him with the sword,
The scourge of Infidels, and tipes of speed.
Buildst thy faith on this?

Mir. On him that dy'd
On such a sacred figure, for our sins.

2 Bish. Here, then we fix it on thy left side, for
Thy increase of faith, Christian defence, and service
To th' poor, and thus near to thy heart we plant it
That thou maist love it even with all thy heart,
With thy right hand protect, preserve it whole,
For if thou fighting 'gainst heavens enemies
Shalt flie away, abandoning the cross
The Ensign of thy holy General,
With shame thou justly shalt be robb'd of it
Chas'd from our company, and cut away
As an infectious putrified limb.

Mir. I ask no favour.

1 Bish. Then receive the yoak
Of him that makes it sweet, and light, in which,
Thy soul find her eternal rest.

Val. Most welcome.

All. Welcome, our noble Brother.

Val. Break up the Court; Mountferrat, though your deeds
Conspiring 'gainst the lives of innocents
Hath forfeited your own, we will not stain
Our white cross with your blood: your doom is then
To marry this coagent of your mischiefs
Which done, we banish you the continent,
If either, after three daies here be found
The hand of Law laies hold upon your lives.

Nor. Away French stallion, now you have a Barbary mare
Of your own, go leap her, and engender young devilings.

Val. We will find something noble Norandine
To quit your merit: so to civil feasts,
According to our customs; and all pray
The dew of grace, bless our new Knight to day. [Exeunt.

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