Jul. They tell me,
If they might be brought before you,
They would reveale things of strange consequence.
Cla. Their base poor fears.
Jul. I, that makes me hate 'em too;
For if they were but manly to their sufferance,
Sure I should strain a point or two.
Cla. An hour hence I'll take a view of e'm,
And hear their business. Are your Men thus too?
Cro. Mine? No, gentle Madam, mine were not cast
In such base molds; afflictions, tortures,
Are names and natures of delight, to my men;
All sorts of cruelties they meet like pleasures.
I have but two; the one they call Du-pont,
Tibalt Du-pont; the other the Ship-master.
Cla. Have they not lives, and fears?
Cro. Lives they have Madam;
But those lives never linkt to such companions
As fears or doubts.
Cla. Use 'em Nobly;
And where you find fit subjects for your pitties
Let it become ye to be courteous;
My Mother will not alwayes be thus rigorous.
Hip. Mine are Saylors Madam,
But they sleep soundly, and seldom trouble me, unless it be when
They dream sometimes of fights and tempests;
Then they rore and whistle for Cans of Wine,
And down they fling me; and in that rage,
(For they are violent fellows) they play such reaks.
If they have meat, they thank me;
If none, they heartily desire to be hang'd quickly.
And this is all they care.
Cla. Look to 'em diligently; and where your pitties tells ye
They may deserve, give comfort.