The relapse in my blood that ’gins to faint
From[138] further persecution of these people. 
Oh shall I backe and double tyranny? (Thunder.)
A louder threat[e]ning! oh mould these voyces
Into articulate words, that I may know
Thy meaning better.  Shall I quench the flames
Of blood and vengeance, and my selfe become
A penetrable Christian? my life lay downe
Amongst their sufferings? (Musicke.)
Ha, these are sweet tunes.

Ang. Bellizarius!

Belliz.  It names me, too.

Ang.  Sheath up thy cruelty; no more pursue
In bloody forrage these oppressed Christians,
For now the Thunder will take their part. 
Remaine in peace and Musicke is thy banquet,
Or thy selfe number ’mongst their martyring groanes
And thou art numbred with these blessed ones.

Belliz.  What heavenly voyce is this? shall my eares onely
Be blest with raptures, not mine eyes enioy
The sight of that Celestiall presence
From whence these sweet sounds come?

Ang.  Yes, thou shalt see; nay, then, ’tis lost agen.
                            (Bel. kneeles.)
Rise; this is enough; be constant Souldier: 
Thy heart’s a Christian, to death persever
And then enioy the sight of Angels ever.
                                     [Exit.

Belliz.  Oh, let me flye into that happy place. 
Prepare your tortures now, you scourge of Christians,
For Bellizarius the Christians torturer;
Centuple all that I have ever done;
Kindle the fire and hacke at once with swords;
Teare me by piece-meales, strangle, and extend
My every limbe and ioynt; nay, devise more
Than ever did my bloody Tyrannies. 
Oh let me ever lose the sight of men
That I may see an Angell once agen.
                                    [Exit.

Actus Secundus.

(SCENE I.)

Enter Hubert and Damianus.

Hub.  For[139] looke you, Damianus, though Henricke, now king, did in the battaile well and Bellizarius enough for a Generall, did not I tell ’em home?

Dam.  I heard it.

Hub.  They shall not make bonefires of their owne glories and set up for me a poore waxe candle to shew mine.  I am full of Gold now:  what shall I doe with it, Damianus?

Dam.  What doe Marriners after boone voyages, but let all flye; and what Souldiers, when warres are done, but fatten peace?

Hub.  Pox of Peace! she has churles enough to fatten her.  I’ll make a Shamoyes Doublet, embroydered all over with flowers of gold.  In these dayes a woman will not looke upon a man if he be not brave.  Over my Doublet a Soldado Cassacke of Scarlet, larded thicke with Gold Lace; Hose of the same, cloake of the same, too, lasht up this high and richly lined.  There was a Lady, before I went, was working with her needle a Scarffe for mee; but the Wagtaile has left her nest.