Part 8

_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.

_M[i]r._ 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.

_M[i]r._ 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.