SCENE IV.--_On Board an English Ship_.

_Enter_ Bess _as a_ Sea-captain, Captain Goodlack, Roughman, _and others_.

Bess. Good morrow, captain. Oh, this last sea-fight Was gallantly performed! It did me good To see the Spanish carvel[2.54] vail[2.55] her top Unto my maiden flag. Where ride we now?

Goodlack. Among the Islands.

Bess. What coast is this we now descry from far?

Goodlack. Yon fort’s called Fayal.

Bess. Is that the place where Spencer’s body lies?

Goodlack. Yes; in yon church he’s buried.

Bess. Then know, to this place was my voyage bound, To fetch the body of my Spencer thence; In his own country to erect a tomb And lasting monument, where, when I die, In the same bed of earth my bones may lie. Then, all that love me, arm and make for shore: Yours be the spoil, he mine; I crave no more.

Roughman. May that man die derided and accursed That will not follow where a woman leads.

Goodlack. Roughman, you are too rash, and counsel ill. Have not the Spaniards fortified the town? In all our ging we are but sixty-five.

Roughman. Come, I’ll make one.

Goodlack. Attend me, good lieutenant; And, sweet Bess, listen what I have devised. With ten tall fellows I have manned our boat, To see what straggling Spaniards they can take. And see where Fawcett is returned with prisoners.

_Enter_ Fawcett, _with two_ Spaniards.

Fawcett. These Spaniards we by break of day surprised, As they were ready to take boat for fishing.

Goodlack. Spaniards, upon your lives, resolve us truly, How strong’s the town and fort?

1st Spaniard. Since English Raleigh won and spoiled it first, The town’s re-edified, and fort new built, And four field-pieces in the block-house lie, To keep the harbour’s mouth.

Goodlack. And what’s one ship to these?

Bess. Was there not, in the time of their abode, A gentleman called Spencer buried there, Within the church, whom some report was slain, Or perished by a wound?

1st Spaniard. Indeed, there was, And o’er him raised a goodly monument; But when the English navy were sailed thence, And that the Spaniards did possess the town, Because they held him for a heretic, They straight removed his body from the church.

Bess. And would the tyrants be so uncharitable To wrong the dead! Where did they then bestow him?

1st Spaniard. They buried him i’ the fields.

Bess. Oh, still more cruel!

1st Spaniard. The man that ought[2.56] the field, doubtful his corn Would never prosper whilst a heretic’s body Lay there, he made petition to the church To ha’ it digged up and burnt; and so it was.

Bess. What’s he, that loves me, would persuade me live, Not rather leap o’er hatches into the sea? Yet, ere I die, I hope to be revenged Upon some Spaniards, for my Spencer’s wrong.

Roughman. Let’s first begin with these.

Bess. ’Las, these poor slaves! Besides their pardoned lives, One give them money.--And, Spaniards, where you come, Pray for Bess Bridges, and speak well o’ the English.

1st & 2nd Spaniards. We shall.

Bess. Our mourning we will turn into revenge, And since the church hath censured so my Spencer, Bestow upon the church some few cast pieces.-- Command the gunner do’t.

Goodlack. And, if he can, To batter it to the earth.

[_A gun is discharged_.

_Enter_ Clem, _falling through haste_.

Clem. A sail! a sail!

Bess. From whence?

Clem. A pox upon yon gunner! Could he not give warning, before he had shot?

Roughman. Why, I prithee?

Clem. Why? I was sent to the top-mast, to watch, and there I fell fast asleep. Bounce! quoth the guns; down tumbles Clem; and, if by chance my feet had not hung in the tackles, you must have sent to England for a bone-setter, for my neck had been in a pitiful taking.

Roughman. Thou told’st us of a sail.

_Enter_ Sailor, _above_.

Sailor. Arm, gentlemen! a gallant ship of war Makes with her full sails this way; who, it seems, Hath took a bark of England.

Bess. Which we’ll rescue, Or perish in the adventure. You have sworn That, howsoe’er we conquer or miscarry, Not to reveal my sex.

All. We have.

Bess. Then, for your country’s honour, my revenge, For your own fame, and hope of golden spoil, Stand bravely to’t.--The manage of the fight We leave to you.

Goodlack. Then, now up with your fights,[2.57] and let your ensigns, Blest with St. George’s cross, play with the winds.-- Fair Bess, keep you your cabin.

Bess. Captain, you wrong me: I will face the fight; And where the bullets sing loud’st ’bout mine ears, There shall you find me cheering up my men.

Roughman. This wench would of a coward make a Hercules.

Bess. Trumpets, a charge! and with your whistles shrill, Sound, boatswains, an alarum to your mates. With music cheer up their astonished souls, The whilst the thundering ordnance bear the bass.

Goodlack. To fight against the Spaniards we desire. Alarum, trumpets!

[_Alarum_.

Roughman. Gunners, straight give fire!

[_A shot is fired. Exeunt_ Goodlack, Bess, _&c._

_Re-enter_ Captain Goodlack, _wounded_, Bess, Roughman, Fawcett, _and_ Clem.

Goodlack. I am shot, and can no longer man the deck: Yet let not my wound daunt your courage, mates.

Bess. For every drop of blood that thou hast shed, I’ll have a Spaniard’s life.--Advance your targets, And now cry all, “Board! board! Amain for England!”

[_Alarum. Exeunt_ Goodlack, Bess, _&c._

_Re-enter_ Bess, Roughman, Fawcett, Clem, _&c., victorious. The_ Spaniards _prisoners_.

Bess. How is it with the captain?

Roughman. Nothing dangerous; But, being shot i’ the thigh, he keeps his cabin, And cannot rise to greet your victory.

Bess. He stood it bravely out, whilst he could stand.

Clem. But for these Spaniards: now, you Don Diegos, You that made Paul’s to stink.[2.58]

Roughman. Before we further censure them, let’s know What English prisoners they have here aboard. [_Exit_.

1st Spaniard. You may command them all. We that were now Lords over them, fortune hath made your slaves.-- Release our prisoners.

Bess. Had my captain died, Not one proud Spaniard had escaped with life. Your ship is forfeit to us, and your goods: So live.--Give him his long boat: him and his Set safe ashore; and pray for English Bess.

1st Spaniard. I know not whom you mean; but be’t your queen, Famous Elizabeth, I shall report She and her subjects both are merciful.

[_Exeunt_ Spaniards.

_Re-enter_ Roughman, _with a_ Merchant, Spencer _and_ English Prisoners.

Bess. Whence are you, sir, and whither were you bound?

Merchant. I am a London merchant, bound for Barbary; But by this Spanish man-of-war surprised, Pillaged and captived.

Bess. We much pity you. What loss you have sustained, this Spanish prey Shall make good to you, to the utmost farthing.

Merchant. Our lives, and all our fortunes whatsoever, Are wholly at your service.

Bess. These gentlemen have been dejected long. Let me peruse[2.59] them all, and give them money To drink our health. And pray forget not, sirs, To pray for----[_She sees_ Spencer.] Hold! support me, or I faint.

Roughman. What sudden, unexpected ecstasy Disturbs your conquest?

Bess. Interrupt me not; But give me way, for Heaven’s sake!

Spencer. I have seen A face, ere now, like that young gentleman, But not remember where.

Bess. But he was slain; Lay buried in yon church; and thence removed, Denied all Christian rites, and, like an infidel, Confined unto the fields; and thence digged up, His body, after death, had martyrdom. All these assure me ’tis his shadow dogs me, For some most just revenge, thus far to sea.-- Is it because the Spaniards scaped with life, That were to thee so cruel after death, Thou haunt’st me thus? Sweet ghost, thy rage forbear; I will revenge thee on the next we seize. I am amazed; this sight I’ll not endure. Sleep, sleep, fair ghost, for thy revenge is sure.

Roughman. Fawcett, convey the owner to his cabin.

[_Exit_ Fawcett _with_ Bess.

Spencer. I pray, sir, what young gentleman is that?

Roughman. He’s both the owner of the ship and goods, That for some reasons hath his name concealed.

Spencer. Methinks he looks like Bess; for in his eyes Lives the first love that did my heart surprise.

Roughman. Come, gentlemen, first make your losses good, Out of this Spanish prize. Let’s then divide Both several ways, and Heavens be our guide.

Merchant. We towards Mamorah.

Roughman. We where the Fates do please, Till we have tracked a wilderness of seas.

[_Flourish. Exeunt_.

_Enter_ Chorus.

Chorus. Our stage so lamely can express a sea, That we are forced by Chorus to discourse What should have been in action. Now, imagine Her passion o’er, and Goodlack well recovered; Who, had he not been wounded, and seen Spencer, Had sure descried him. Much prize they have ta’en: The French and Dutch she spares; only makes spoil Of the rich Spaniard and the barbarous Turk. And now her fame grows great in all these seas. Suppose her rich, and forced, for want of water, To put into Mamorah, in Barbary, Where, wearied with the habit of a man, She was discovered by the Moors aboard, Which told it to the amorous King of Fez, That ne’er before had English lady seen. He sends for her on shore. How he receives her, How she and Spencer meet, must next succeed. Sit patient, then: when these are fully told, Some may hap say, “Ay, there’s a girl worth gold.” [_Exit_.

ACT THE FIFTH.