Hen. If you can be so simple to proclaime it, I can be impudent.
Ele. Yet dar’st thou live? & doe
I live to see
Myselfe the shame of weomen? have I not
Wept teares enough to drowne me? then let fire
Enthrone it selfe within me & beget
Prodigious Cometts, that with flaming haires
May threaten danger to thee!
Hen. Nay, nay, nay, if you be so hott
Ile brave you: like wine that’s burnt you
must be set light by, & then you’le come to a
temper.
[Exit.
Ele. Oh, helpe me out of hell!
Buz. Sh’has bene at Barleybreake.[24]—Madam I must say nothing: —there is a Pistol and so forth:—but if you have occasion to use me, try mee; if I doe not prove an honester man to you then my Master, would my Cod piece point were broake. I know what I know, and yet Ile tell no tales;—but if ever I come to speake once—I say nothing.
Ele. Oh that I could not breath! how can I have A Joy in life whose honour’s in the Grave!
[Exeunt.
(SCENE 3.)
Enter Pike with his sword in his hand, a Cloake in his Arme.
Pike. The freshnes of this Ayre does well after the saltnes of the Sea. A pleasant Country, too, to looke upon, & would serve well to live upon if a man had it & knew how to place it out of this hott Clymate! I would I had a matter, or a Mannour, indeede, of a 1,000 acres of these woodlands & roome to sett it in Devonshire; I would compare with any prince betweene Tavistoke & Parradice for an Orchard. But I could wish I were not alone here in this Conceit, dreaming of Golden Apples, least they prove bitter fruite. Whether are our land soldiers straggeld, troe? I would faine sett eye on some of them; Ile venture a little farther; Devonshire Dick was never afraid yet.—How now, my hearts? upon a retreat so soone?
Enter Three Soldiers.
1. I, to the shipps; we have our loades here of the best merchandise we can find in this Quarter.
2. Will you taste a Lymon? excellent good to coole you.
Pike. They are goodly ones; where gott you them?
3. A little above here in an Orchard, where we left some of our Company.
Pike. But may one goe safe, without danger?
1. As safely as ever you gatherd nutts in England; the Spaniards are all fled.
2. Not soe much as the leg of
a Spanyard left to squayle at their owne appletrees.
[Exeunt Soldiers.
Pike. Ile have a pull at these pomcitrons for my noble Captaine; & if I had a Porters basket full of ’em I would count them no burthen in requitall of some part of the love he hath shewen me.
[Exit.