Pike.  My noble Captaine, I’le have care of my owne and drinke your health with it.

Ma.  Thou deservest more than common encouragement:  prithee, remember me too.

[Exeunt Capt. & Mast.

Pike.  Why, now am I sorry I have no more hurt, gentlemen; but I tooke it as earnest to receive more if occasion bee.  I have but a barrell to bestow among my Dons; while that lasts let ’em come & welcome,—­the drinke shalbe spicd to their hands.  Their complexions are blacke, they shall want no Balls to wash their faces; if any doe light in their bodies they may chance be scourd all over.

Sol. 2.  We may hap to be in the suddes ourselves.

Pike.  There will be charges savd then; for my part I am but one, and there are shotts enough.

Sol. 2.  More by a score then I hope wilbe payd these two dayes.

Pike.  Talke not of paying:  here’s more then a month comes to.  Well, if our service be done, & there be any other liquor to be gott, wele drinke no salt water as long as this lasts.

Sol. 2.  Come, let’s have a dish to our countrymen & let’s remember Tavestock.

Pike.  Godamercy for that, boy.  A match, a match!

[Exeunt.

(SCENE 2.)

Enter Henrico Gusman, his sword drawne, & Eleonora.

Hen.  Yet the Citty is safe enough; feare not, Eleonora;
The Bullets make no noyse here:  if the Towne
Should yield her strength up to th’invader, thou
Art lockd up like a spirit in a Christall: 
Not an enchanted Castle, held up by
Strong charme, is halfe so safe.  This house, though now
It carry not the figure & faire shape
Which the first workeman gave it, eating Time
Having devourd the face of’t, is within
A Sanctuary, & hath so much cunning
Couchd in the body not a Laborinth
Is so full of Meanders.

Ele.  Sir, your presence
Confirmes me in opinion of my safety;
Not of my life so much, for that’s a thing
I owe to nature & should one day be
A-weary of it; like to Innes we take
Our houses up, having but here a place
Of Lodging not of dwelling:—­but of honour
You give me my assurance, for in such
A time of thicke confusions I much feare
That might be hazarded.  And who knowes what
The soldier that hath no lawe but that
Of cruelty and rapine, when like a Bird
Of prey his Tallents are possessd of one
So weake as I am—­

Hen.  He that durst offend
Thee with a sillable or but fright that bloud
Out of thy Cheekes to seeke another place,
Not daring to be seene there where it now
Is of itselfe sufficient to ravish
A mortall that with just eyes can looke on it,
Had better be a divell.  But a haire,
The poorest part of thee & in this excellent
Because ’tis thine, should any dare to ravish
From these his soft companions, which the wind
Would be for ever proud to play withall,
H’had better dig his mothers coffin up
And with his teeth eate what the wormes have left.