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.