Fisc. Towerson’s page, a ship-boy, and a woman.

Har. Call them in. [Exit a Messenger.

Van Her. We shall have easy work with them.

Fisc. Not so easy as you imagine, they have endured the beverage already; all masters of their pain, no one confessing.

Har. The devil’s in these English! those brave boys would prove stout topers if they lived.

  Enter Page, a Boy, and a Woman, led as from torture.

Come hither, ye perverse imps; they say you have endured the water torment, we will try what fire will do with you:  You, sirrah, confess; were not you knowing of Towerson’s plot, against this fort and island?

Page. I have told your hangman no, twelve times within this hour, when I was at the last gasp; and that is a time, I think, when a man should not dissemble.

Har. A man! mark you that now; you English boys have learnt a trick of late, of growing men betimes; and doing men’s work, too, before you come to twenty.

Van Her. Sirrah, I will try if you are a salamander and can live in the fire.

Page. Sure you think my father got me of some Dutchwoman, and that I am but of a half-strain courage; but you shall find that I am all over English as well in fire as water.

Boy. Well, of all religions, I do not like your Dutch.

Fisc. No? and why, young stripling?

Boy. Because your penance comes before confession.

Har. Do you mock us, sirrah?  To the fire with him.

Boy. Do so; all you shall get by it is this; before I answered no; now I’ll be sullen and will talk no more.

Har. Best cutting off these little rogues betime; if they grow men, they will have the spirit of revenge in them.

Page. Yes, as your children have that of rebellion.  Oh that I could but live to be governor here, to make your fat guts pledge me in that beverage I drunk, you Sir John Falstaff of Amsterdam!

Boy. I have a little brother in England, that I intend to appear to when you have killed me; and if he does not promise me the death of ten Dutchmen in the next war, I’ll haunt him instead of you.

Har. What say you, woman?  Have compassion of yourself, and confess; you are of a softer sex.

Wom. But of a courage full as manly; there is no sex in souls; would you have English wives shew less of bravery than their children do?  To lie by an Englishman’s side, is enough to give a woman resolution.

Fisc. Here is a hen of the game too, but we shall tame you in the fire.

Wom. My innocence shall there be tried like gold, till it come out the purer.  When you have burnt me all into one wound, cram gunpowder into it, and blow me up, I’ll not confess one word to shame my country.