Fisc. They should have fires of cloves and cinnamon; We would cut down whole groves to honour them, And be at cost to burn them nobly.

Beam. Barbarous villains! now you show yourselves

Har. Boy, take that candle thence, and bring it hither;
I am exalted, and would light my pipe
Just where the wick is fed with English fat.

Van Her. So would I; oh, the tobacco tastes divinely after it.

Tow. We have friends in England, who would weep to see
This acted on a theatre, which here
You make your pastime.

Beam. Oh, that this flesh were turned a cake of ice,
That I might in an instant melt away,
And become nothing, to escape this torment! 
There is not cold enough in all the north
To quench my burning blood. [FISCAL whispers HARMAN.

Har. Do with Beamont as you please, so Towerson die.

Fisc. You’ll not confess yet, captain?

Tow. Hangman, no;
I would have don’t before, if e’er I would: 
To do it when my friend has suffered this,
Were to be less than he.

Fisc. Free him. [They free BEAMONT. 
Beamont, I have not sworn you should not suffer. 
But that you should not die; thank Julia for it. 
But on your life do not delay this hour
To post from hence! so to your next plantation;
I cannot suffer a loved rival near me.

Beam. I almost question if I will receive My life from thee:  ’Tis like a cure from witches; ’Twill leave a sin behind it.

Fisc. Nay, I’m not lavish of my courtesy; I can on easy terms resume my gift.

Har. Captain, you’re a dead man; I’ll spare your torture for your quality; prepare for execution instantly.

Tow. I am prepared.

Fisc. You die in charity, I hope?

Tow. I can forgive even thee: 
My innocence I need not name, you know it. 
One farewell kiss of my dear Isabinda,
And all my business here on earth is done.

Har. Call her; she’s at the door. [Exit FISC.

Tow. [To BEAM. embracing.]
A long and last farewell!  I take my death
With the more cheerfulness, because thou liv’st
Behind me:  Tell my friends, I died so as
Became a Christian and a man; give to my brave
Employers of the East India company,
The last remembrance of my faithful service;
Tell them, I seal that service with my blood;
And, dying, wish to all their factories,
And all the famous merchants of our isle,
That wealth their generous industry deserves;
But dare not hope it with Dutch partnership. 
Last, there’s my heart, I give it in this kiss:  [Kisses him.
Do not answer me; friendship’s a tender thing,
And it would ill become me now to weep.