King. So.
Bal. To that heat we came, our Drums beat, Pikes were shaken and shiver'd, swords and Targets clash'd and clatter'd, Muskets ratled, Canons roar'd, men dyed groaning, brave laced Jerkings and Feathers looked pale, totter'd[190] rascals fought pell mell; here fell a wing, there heads were tost like foot-balls; legs and armes quarrell'd in the ayre and yet lay quietly on the earth; horses trampled upon heaps of carkasses, Troopes of Carbines tumbled wounded from their horses; we besiege Moores and famine us; Mutinies bluster and are calme. I vow'd not to doff mine Armour, tho my flesh were frozen too't and turn'd into Iron, nor to cut head nor beard till they yeelded; my hayres and oath are of one length, for (with Caesar) thus write I mine owne story, Veni, vidi, vici.
King. A pitch'd field quickly fought: our hand is thine
And 'cause thou shalt not murmur that thy blood
Was lavish'd forth for an ingrateful man,
Demand what we can give thee and 'tis thine.
(Onaelia beats at the doore.)
Onae. Let me come in! I'le kill that treacherous king, The murderer of mine honour: let me come in!
King. What womans voyce is that?
Omnes. Medina's Neece.
King. Bar out that fiend.
Onae. I'le teare him with my nayles! Let me come in, let me come in! helpe, helpe me!
King. Keepe her from following me: a gard!