Enter Pike.
1. Are you resolvd?
Pike. Yes.
2. To confesse?
Pike. I ha' don't already.
1. To whom?
Pike. To one who is in better place
And greater power then you to cure my sicke
Infected part, though maladies as infinite
As the sea sands, the grassy spears on earth,
Or as the dropps of raine & stars in the firmament
Stucke on me he can cleare all, cleanse me throughly.
2. You will not then confesse?
Pike. No, I confesse I will not.
1. We are sorry for you;
For Countryes sake this Counsaile do I give you:
When y'are before the Lords rule well your tongue,
Be wary how you answer, least they tripp you;
For they know the whole number of your shipps,
Burthen, men & munition, as well
As you in England.