 | Dick of Devonshire |  |
54
Act: 4.
Sce: 1.
Ent: Henrico, (as newly risen.)H:
Buzzano? slave? Buzzano?
Ent: Buzzano wt h Cloake & Rapier.
Buz:
Signior, what a buzzing
you make? as if you were a fly at Bartholomew tyde at a
Butchers stall. doe you thinke I am deafe?
Hen:
No, but blind; do'st sleepe as thou goest?
B:
No, but I goe as I sleepe, & that's scurvily.
H:
Call my brother Manuell.
Buz:
Brother Manuell.
H:
How? pray (goodman rascall) how long have he & you bene Brothers?
B:
I know not; may be ever since we were borne; for yor father
vsd to come home to my mother; & why may not I be a Chipp
of ye same blocke out of wc h you two were cutt? mothers are sure
of ye i r Children, but no man is able to sweare who was his father.
H:
You are very lusty.
B:
I eate Eringoes & potchd Eggs last night.
H:
Goe & call him.
B:
what?
Hen:
you hound, is he vp?
B:
no, he's in Bed, & yet he may be vp too, Ile goe see.
H:
Stay, & speake low, how now?
Buz: falls downe.
B:
I can speake no lower, vnlesse I creepe into ye Cellar.
H:
I'me glad you are so merry sir.
B:
so am I, my heart is a fiddle
the strings are rozend wt h ioy yt my other yong Mr. is come home;
& my tongue is ye sticke yt makes ye fiddle squeake.
H:
Come hither, leave yor fooling, & tell me truely,
didst sleepe to night, or no?
B:
sleepe? not yt I remember, Ile sweare, & my eyes should
come out as [2] witnesses) that I nere slept worse, for what
wt h yor Spanish flyes (ye pocky stinging musquitoes)
& what wt h your skip Iacke fleas, ye nap of my sleepe was
worne off.
Hen:
didst heare not hing?
Buz:
not in my sleepe.
H:
Collect thy sences; when thou wert awake, didst thou heare nothing?
B:
nothing.
H:
twixt .12. & one?
B:
12 & one? then was I in my dead
sleepe; cursing ye fleas.
H:
Or about one & Two?
B:
That's Three; now ye Beetle of my head beates it into my memory
that as you & your Brother Manuell lay in the high Bed, & I trondling
vnderneath; I heard one of you talke most stigmatically in his sleepe,
55
Hen:
right, now thou com'st to me, so did I.
B:
And then once or twice ye sleepy voice cryde out, oh it was I that
murtherd him, this hand killd him.
H:
Art sure thou heardst this?
B:
Am I sure these are my eares?
H:
And dar'st thou sweare thou heardst it?
Buz:
lay downe .20. oathes
& see if Ile not take them.
H:
And whose voice was it did appeare to thee?
B:
whose was it? well said yong Master, make an Asse of yor fathers man.
H:
Come, come, be serious; whose voice?
Buz:
whose voice? why then
if yor windpipe were slitt now & opend, there should ye voice be found;
I durst, at midnight, be sworne yt ye Ghost of yor voice appeard before me.
H:
no, me it frighted too, vp stood my haire stiffe & on end.
B:
As a Catts does at sight of a Dog.
H:
A cold sweat (pearld in dropps)
all ore my body; for twas my Brothers voice, & were I calld before
a Thousand Iudges I must sweare it could be no mans els.
B:
Why then I must sweare so too.
H:
oh it was I yt murtherd him, this hand killd him.
wt hin, Man:
Buzzano?
Hen:
He's vp.
Man:
Buzzano?
B:
I come.
Hen:
Helpe to make him ready, but not a word on thy life.
B:
Mum;
Exit.
56
So let it worke, thus far my wheeles [we] goe true,
because a Captaine leading vp his men
In ye proud van has honor above them
& they his Vassailes, must my Elder brother
leave me a slave to ye world! & why for sooth?
because he gott ye start in my mothers belly;
to be before me there; all yonger brothers
must sitt beneath ye salt, & take what Dishes
the Elder shoves downe to them: I doe not like
this kind of service, could I, by this tricke
of a voice counterfeited, & confessing
the murther of my father, trusse vp this yonker
& so make my selfe heire, & a yonger brother
of him, twere a good dayes worke; wer't not fine angling?
hold line & hooke Ile puzzle him.
Ent: Manuell & Buzzano.
Man:
morrow brother.
H:
oh good morrow; you have slept soundly.
M:
Travellers that are weary have sleepe led in a string.
Buz:
So doe those yt are hangd: all yt travell & are weary doe not sleepe.
M:
why, Mr Buzzano, why?
B:
Midwives travell at night & are weary
wt h eating groaning pyes, & yet sleepe not; shall I hooke you?
M:
Hooke me? what meanst?
B:
these Taylors are ye wittyest knaves
yt live by bread.
Hen:
And why witty?, out of yor wisedome.
B:
In old time gentlemen would call to their men, & cry, come trusse me;
now ye word is, Come hooke me; for every body now lookes so narrowly
to Taylors bills (some for very anger never paying them) that the
needle lance knights in revenge of those prying eyes, putt so many
hookes & eyes to every hose & Dubblet.
M:
Well sir, Ile not be hookd then now.
B:
Tis well if you be not.
Exit.
H:
france is an excellent Country?
M:
oh, a brave one.
H:
yor Monsieurs gallant sparkes?
M:
sparkes? oh sir, all fire.
the soule of Complement, Courtship & fine language,
witty & active lovers of faire Ladyes;
short naggs, & English mastives: proud, fantasticke,
yet such a pride, & such fantasticknes,
It so becomes them, other Nations
57
no perfect gentlemen, till frenchifyed.
H:
Tush England breeds more Apes then Barbary;
how chance my father came not home wt h you?
M:
He was too hard tyed by ye leg wt h busines.
H:
what busines?
M:
Tis but stepping into france
& he perhaps will tell you.
Hen:
perhaps? tis well,
what part of france did you leave him in?
M:
what part? why I left him at Nancy in Lorraine; no, no, I lye;
now I remember me, twas at Chaalons in Burgundy.
H:
Hoyda, a most loving Child, yt knowes not where he left his father, & yet
comes but now from him; had you left in france
yor whore behind you, In yor Table bookes
you would have sett downe ye streets very name,
yes, & ye baudy signe too.
Man:
hum, you say well sir;
now you are vp to th'eares in Baudery
pray tell me one thing Brother; (I am sorry
to putt forth such a question) but speake truely;
58
a piece of worke, (not yor best masterpiece)
but such an one as on[e] ye house of Guzman
will plucke a vengeance, & on ye good old man
(or noble father) heape such hills of sorrow
to beate him into his grave?
Hen:
what's this yor foolery?
M:
pray heaven [you have not] it prove soe; have not you defac'd
that sweet & matchles goodnes, Eleonora, fernando's Daughter?
H:
How defacd her?
M:
hearke sir, playd Tarquins part & ravisht her?
H:
Tis a lye.
M:
I hope so too;
H:
what villaine speakes it?
M:
One wt h so wide a throat that vttering it
twas heard in france; A letter sir informd my father so.
H:
Letter? from whom?
M:
A woman.
H:
she's a whore.
M:
Twas Eleonora.
H:
she's then a villanous strumpet so to write,
& you an Asse, a Coxcomb to beleeve it.
M:
Nettled? then let me tell you that I feare
I shall for ever blush when in my hearing
any names Henrico Gusman for my brother;
In right of vertue & a womans honor
[I dare] (this deare wrongd Ladies) I dare call thee Villaine.
H:
Villaine? they fight.
Enter ferdinand & Attendants.
fer:
part them, part them.
Hen:
let me see his heart
panting vpon my weapons point, then part vs,
els pray forbeare ye roome.
fer:
fy, fy, Two Brothers,
Two Eaglets of one noble Aery,
pecke out each others eyes? welcome from france,
how does yor honourd father?
Man:
well my Lord;
I left him late in Paris.
Hen:
so, so, in Paris;
hath he .3. bodyes? Lorraine? Burgundy? & Paris?
my Lord, his Highnes putts into yor hand
a sword of Iustice, draw it forth I charge you,
by th'oath made to yor king to smite this Traytor
the murtherer of my father.
M:
I?
H:
yes thou;
thou slave hast bene his Executioner.
M:
where? when?
H:
there, then, in france.
M:
oh heavenly powers!
59
Oh intollerable villaine, parricide, monster of mankind, Spaniards shame.
fer:
pray heare me, are you in earnest?
H:
earnest.
fer:
be advisd.
H:
lay hold on him, ye murtherer of my father,
I have armd proofes against him.
Man:
An armd devill,
& that's thy selfe; produce thy proofes.
H:
[p] I will sir,
but I will doe't by law.
fer:
you are vp allready
too deepe I feare in Law.
Hen:
If you can, sett then
your foote vpon my head, & drowne me; yor [are] worst,
let me have Iustice here.
Fer:
well sir, you shall,
Manuell, I can no lesse then lay vpon you
the hand of my Authority, In my Caroach
you shall wt h mee to Sherris, 3. leagues off;
where ye Lords sitt to morrow: there you must answer
this most vnbrotherly accusation.
M:
And prove him a false Caytiffe.
fer:
I will be both yor guard, sir, & yor bayle,
& make no Doubt to free you from this Viper.
Hen:
Viper?
fer:
y'are bound t'appeare at Sherris sir,
60
I have a certaine Daughter there shall meete you. Come,
Exit cu Man & suis.
Hen:
Thither I dare you both, all Three, Buzzano?
B:
sir?
Hen:
Saddle my Iennet, Ile to Sherris prsently.
B:
And I?
H:
& you; but I must schoole you sirra.
Exeunt.
Sce: 2.
Ent: Pike, shackled, & his Iaylor.Iay:
Boon Coragio man, how is't?
Pi:
Not very well, & yet well enough,
considering how ye Cheating Dice of ye world run.
Iay:
I dare not, though I have a care of you, ease you of one Iron,
vnles I desire such Gyves my selfe.
P:
Las, if they were all knockt off, I'me loaden wt h Gyves shackles &
fetters enough for ye arrantest theefe that ever lay in my owne Country
in Newgate.
Iay:
Shackles, gyves and fetters enough? I see none but
these at yor heeles, wc h come on wt hout a shooing horne.
P:
yes, at my heart I weare them: A wife & Children (my poore Lambes
at home) there's a chaine of sighes & sobbes, & sorrow, harder then any Iron,
& this Chayne is so long it reaches from Sherrys to Tavestoke in Devonshire.
Iay:
That's farre enough in Conscience.
Pi:
could I shake those Chaines off,
I would cutt Capers; poore Dicke Pike would dance, though Death pip'd
to him; yes, & spitt in yor Hangmans face.
Iay:
Not too much of that neyther; some .2. dayes hence he will give you a
choake peare will spoyle yor spitting.
Pi:
pheu.
Iay:
for let me see, to day is Sunday; to morrow ye Lords sitt, & then
I must have a care, a cruell care to have yor leggs hansome, & a new
cleane ruff band about yor necke, of old rusty Iron; twill purge yor choller.
P:
I, I, let it, let it; Collers, halters & hangmen are to me bracelets
& frendly Companions.
knocking wt hin
Iay:
So hasty, stay my leasure.
Ent: 2. fryers.
Two fryers Come to prpare you.
Exit.
.1.
Hayle Countryman, for we, though fryers in Spaine,
were borne in Ireland.
P:
reverend sir, y'are welcome.
61
have I seene in this damnable Limbo.
2.
Brother, take heed, doe not misuse that word of Limbo.
1.
Brother Pike, for so we heare men call you, we are come
in pure devotion & charity to yor soule, being thereto bound
by holy Orders of or mother Church.
P:
What to doe, pray, wt h me?
.1.
to point wt h or fingers
out all such rockes, shelves, quicksands, gulfes & shallowes,
lying in ye Sea through wc h you are to passe
in ye most dangerous voyage you ere made:
Eyther by or care to sett you safe on land,
or, if you fly from vs, yor heavenly pilotts,
sure to be wrackt for ever.
Pi:
what must I doe?
2.
Confesse to one of vs what rancke & foule impostumes
have bred about yor soule.
.1.
what Leprosies
have run ore all yor Conscience.
.2.
what hott feavers
now shake yor peace of mind.
.1.
for we are come
to cure yor old Corruptions.
.2.
we are come
to be yor true & free Physitians.
.1.
wt hout ye hope of gold to give you health.
2.
To sett you on yor feete in ye right way,
62
To Palestine, the true Ierusalem.
2.
Say, will you vnlocke ye Closet of yor heart
to one of vs? chuse wc h, & be absolvd
for all yor blacke Crimes on a free Confession?
1.
To him, or me, for you must dye to morrow.
Pi:
Welcome, to morrow shall I be in another Country,
where are no Examiners, nor Iaylor s, nor bolts, nor barres nor Irons.
I beseech you give me a litle respite to retire into ye next roome
& I will instantly returne to give [s] you satisfaction.
Exit.
Ambo:
Goe brother.
.1.
A goodly man.
.2.
well limbd, & strong of heart.
1.
Now I well view his face, did not we two
at or last being in Plymouth in disguise
when there ye king of England rode about
to see ye soldiers in their musterings,
& what their armes were, iust before this fleete
sett out, Did we not see him there?
.2.
may be we did;
I know not, if he were there tis now out of my memory.
Enter Pike.
1.
Are you resolvd?
P:
yes.
.2.
To confesse?
P:
I ha' don't already.
1.
To whom?
Pi:
To one who is in better place,
& greater power then you; to cure my sicke
infected part, though maladies as infinite
as ye Sea sands, ye grassy speares on earth,
or as ye dropps of raine & stars in the firmament,
stucke on me, he can cleare all, clense me throughly.
2.
you will not then confesse?
P:
no, I confesse I will not.
1.
we are sorry for you: for Countryes sake this counsaile doe I give you,
when y'are before ye Lords, rule well yor tongue,
be wary how you answer, least they tripp you:
for they know ye whole number of yor shipps,
burthen, men, & munition, as well as you in England.
P:
I thanke you both.
.2.
prpare to dye.
Exeunt. fryers
P:
I will so. prpare to dye? an Excellent bell, & it sounds sweetly;
he yt prpares to dye, rigges a goodly ship; he yt is well prpard
is ready to launch forth; he yt prpares well, & dyes well
arrives at a happy haven; prpare to dye? prparation is ye sauce
63
boldly as a man, humbly as a Christian, & bravely as an Englishman:
oh my Children, my Children, my poore Wife & Children!
Ent: Iaylor & .3. Spanish Picaroes chaynd.
Iay:
Here's a Chearefull morning towards, my brave blouds.
1.
Yes Iaylor, if thou wert to be hangd in one of or roomes.
Iay:
On, on, ye Lords will sitt prsently.
.2.
what's hee?
Iay:
An Englishman.
.3.
A Dog.
.1.
a Divell.
.2.
let's beate out his
braines wt h or Irons.
Iay:
on, on, leave rayling, cursing, &
lying; had you not run from ye Castle, ye Hangman & you
had bene hayle fellow well met; on.
All:
Crowes pecke thy eyes out, English Dog, Curre, Toad, hellhound.
Exeunt.
Pi:
Patience is a good armor, humility a strong headpiece,
would I had you all .3. I know where.
Ent: Bustamente shackled & Iaylor.
Bust:
Whither dost lead me?
Iay:
to a roome
by yor selfe; tis my office to have a Care of my nurse-Children.
64
I have worne better Spanish garters, thus rewarded for my service?
Iay:
See, Capt: Bustamente, doe you know this fellow?
Bust:
No.
Iay:
The Englishman brought prisoner into the Citty, & from thence hither.
Pi:
Oh Captaine, I saw you at ye fort performe ye part of a man.
Bust:
And now thou seest me acting ye part of a slave. farewell soldier,
A Table out, sword & papers.
I did not hate thee at ye fort, though there we mett enemyes,
& if thou & I take or leaves at ye Gallowes, prithee letts part frends.
Iay:
Come along you two.
P:
hand in hand, if ye Captaine please; noble
Bustamente, at ye winning of ye fort we had a brave breakefast.
Bust:
True, but I doubt we shall have worse cheare at Dinner.
Iay:
When was ever any meat well dressd in ye hangmans kitchen?
Exeunt.
Sce: 3.
Ent: fernando bareheaded, talking wt h ye Duke of Macada./ Duke Gyron, Medyna,Marquesse d'Alquevezzes, 2 gent: one wt h Pikes sword, wc h is laid on a table, Iaylor, Teniente, Clarke wt h paper
Mac:
Where's ye Teniente?
Clark.
ye Duke calls for you.
Ten:
here my Lord.
Mac:
Tis ye kings pleasure yt those fugitives
wc h basely left ye fort should not be honourd
wt h a iudiciall tryall; but prsently
(both those you have at home & these in Sherrys)
to dye by martiall law.
Ten:
my Lord Ile see it done.
Mac:
Dispatch the rest here.
Iay:
yes my Lord; Ile bring them
carefully together to end ye busines.
Gyr:
bring Bustamente in.
Exit Iaylor
Mac:
My Lords, here's Don fernando relates to me
two storyes full of wonder; one, of his Daughter,
fam'd for her vertues, faire Eleonora,
accusing Don Henrico, yongest sonne
to noble Pedro Gusman, of a rape;
another of ye same Henrico's, charging
his Elder brother Manuell wt h ye murther
65
Gyr:
are all ye parties here?
Fer:
yes.
Gyr:
bring them in.
Exit Fernan:
Mac:
Bustamente; ye king, or master, looking wt h sharpe eyes
Ent: Iaylor Bustamente, Guard.
vpon yor Trayterous yeilding vp ye Fort
putts off yor Tryall here, you must abide
longer imprisonment.
Bust:
I have allready quitted
my selfe, my lord, of that wc h you call Treason,
wc h had in any here (he doing ye like)
bene a high point of honor.
Alq:
these braves cannot save you.
Gyr:
you must not be yor owne Iudge.
Mac:
you gave ye English
more glory by yor base ignoble rendring
that fort vp, then or Nation gott from them
in all or vndertakings.
Bust:
Heare me, my Lords.
Mac:
Sir, sir, w'have other Anviles; Bustamente
prpare yor selfe for Death.
Bust:
for all my service!
All:
Take him away.
Bust:
you are Lyons & I ye prey.
Exit wt h ye Iaylor.
Mac:
Wc h are Don Pedro's sons?
Fer:
these Two.
Ent: Fernando, Henrico, Manuell.
Mac:
wc h yongest?
Hen:
I, my Lord.
Ent: Iaylor.
Mac:
you charge this Gentleman, yor elder brother, wt h murther of yor father.
Hen:
wc h I can prove.
Mac:
& hither flyes a ravisht Ladyes voice
to charge you wt h a Rape; ye wronged Daughter
of this most noble Gentleman.
Hen:
lett them prove that.
Mac:
These Accusations & ye proofes shall meete
here face to face, in th'afternoone; meane time
66
these gentlemen attended on by a strong guard.
Fer:
The wrongs done to my selfe waken me, my lord, to that.
Man:
I would yor Graces would heare me speake a litle.
All:
you shall have time.
Med:
Take them away,
& at their Tryall have ye Lady here.
Ex: Fer: Hen: Man: & Iaylor.
Gyr:
Where is ye Englishman?
Clark:
The Englishan.
Alq:
What doe you call him? Dick of Devonshire?
Medy:
Because he is a soldier, let him have
a soldiers honor; bring him from his prison
full in ye face of ye whole Towne of Sherrys
wt h Drums & musquetts.
Mac:
How many soldiers are in ye Towne?
Clark:
5000.
Medy:
let .200. march hither along wt h him as his guard.
where's the Teniente?
Ten:
Here my Lord.
Medy:
Pray see this done, & in good order.
Ten:
I shall.
Exit.
Gyr:
What makes Don Iohn here? oh, now I remember,
Ent: Don Iohn below
you come against the Englishman.
Io:
yes, my Lord.
Ent: his Lady & a gentle woman above.
Mac:
Give me ye Note there of ye English advertisemt s
They all conferre.
Lad:
Here may we see & heare, poore Englishman,
sadnes I cast on thee a noble pitty;
a pitty mixt wt h sorrow, that my Husband
has drawne him to this misery, to whom
ye soldier gave life, being at his mercy.
Gent:
Twas bravely done, no doubt he'le speed ye better for his mind.
Lad:
I visited him in prison; & did wt h much adoe win from Don Iohn
this Iourney; for I vowd to see th'event
how they will deale wt h him.
Gent:
I hope most fairely.
Ent: 2. Drums; Teniente, Divers musketts, fernando wt h Pike (wt hout band, an Iron about his necke, 2 Chaines manacling his wrists; a great Chaine at his heeles) Iaylor, 3. or 4 Halberts, A Barre sett out.
Clark:
Silence.
67
you see how much or Spanish soldiers love you
to give this brave Attendance; though yor Nation
fought vs, & came to hunt vs to or deathes.
Pi:
My lords, this, wc h in shew, is brave Attendance,
& love to me, is ye worlds posture right;
where one mans falling downe setts vp another;
my sorrowes are their Triumphes; so in kings Courtes,
when Officers are thrust out of their roomes
others leape laughing in while they doe mourne.
I am at yor mercy.
Mac:
Sirra Englishman,
know you yt weapon? reach it him.
Pi:
yes, it was once mine,
& drawes teares from me to thinke how 'twas forcd from me.
Mac:
How many Spanyards killd you, wt h yt sword?
Pi:
Had I killd one this Barre had nere bene guilty of my pleading,
before such Princely Iudges; there stands ye man.
Gyr:
Don Iohn, sett he on you, or you on him?
Io:
He vpon me first.
Pi:
let me then be torne
into a Thousand pieces.
Lad:
my Husband speakes vntruth.
Alq:
Sett he on you first? more Coward you to suffer an Enemy be aforehand.
Pi:
Indeed in England my Countrymen are good at bidding stand,
but I was not now vpon a robbery, but a defence,
68
I had him at my feete, sav'd him, & for my labour
was after basely hurt by him.
Fer:
This was examined by me, my Lords,
& Don Iohn thus accusd was much ashamd
of his vnmanly dealing.
Gyr:
He may be now soe.
Lad:
I blush for him my selfe.
Alq:
Disgrace to Spanyards.
Mac:
Sirra, you English, what was ye ship you came in?
P:
The Convertine.
Mac:
what Ordnance did she carry?
P:
40 peeces.
Gyr:
no sir, but 38, see here my Lord.
Alq:
right, no more then 38.
Mac:
yor fort at Plymouth strong?
Pi:
Yes, very strong.
Mac:
what Ordnance in't?
Pi:
50 Peeces.
Gyr:
Oh fye, doe not belye yor country; there's not so many.
Alq:
How many soldiers keepe you in that fort?
Pi:
.200.
Mac:
much about such a number. There is a little Iland before Plymouth,
what strength is that of?
Pi:
I doe not know.
Gyr:
We doe then.
Alq:
Is Plymouth a walld Towne?
Pi:
yes, it is walld.
Mac:
And a good wall?
P:
A very good strong wall.
Gyr:
True, tis a good strong wall, & built so high
one wt h a loape staffe may leape over it.
Mac:
Why did not yor great Navy, being in such bravery,
as it tooke Puntall, seize Cales?
Pi:
Our Generall
might easily have tane it, for he had
almost a Thousand scaling [scaling] ladders to sett vp,
&, wt hout mayme to's army, he might loose
a Thousand men; but he was loath to robb
an Almeshouse when he had a richer market
to buy a Conquest in.
Mac:
what was yt market?
P:
Genoa, or Lisbon; wherefore should we venture
they consult.
our lives to catch ye wind? or to gett knockes
& nothing else?
Mac:
A poast wt h speed to Lisbon, & see't well mand.
Ten:
One shalbe sent my Lord. Exit.
The soldiers laugh.
Alq:
How now? why is this laughter?
Fer:
One of ye soldiers, being merry among them selves
69
All:
Hens? ha, ha, ha;
Mac:
Sirra, view well these soldiers,
& freely tells vs, thinke you these will prove
such hens as are yor English! when ye next yeare
they land in yor owne Country.
Pi:
I thinke they will not,
my lord, prove hens, but somewhat neere to hens.
Mac:
How mean'st thou?
Pi:
Let my speech breed no offence,
I thinke they would prove pulletts.
Gyr:
Dar'st thou fight
wt h any one of these or Spanish pulletts?
Pi:
What heart have I to fight, when tis beaten flatt
to earth wt h sad afflictions? can a prisoner
glory in playing ye ffencer? my life's at stake
allready, can I putt it in for more?
Our Army was. some .14000. men,
of wc h, more then .12000. had spirits so high
mine never shall come neere them; would some of them
were here to feed yor expectations:
Yet, silly as I am, having faire pardon
70
Ile try if I have strength in this chaynd arme
to breake a rapier.
Mac:
knock off all his gyves,
and he that has a stomacke for Spaines honor
to combate wt h this English man, appeare.
Pi:
may he be never calld an Englishman
that dares not looke a divell in ye face,
One stepps forth,
come he in shape of man, come how he can.
Mac:
yor name?
Tia:
Tiago.
All:
well done Tiago.
Mac:
let Drums beate all ye time they fight.
Lad:
I pray for thee.
Gent:
And I.
They fight. Pike disarmes & tripps him downe.
P:
Onely a Devon shire, hugg sir,
at yor feete I lay my winnings.
Tia:
Diablo.
exit, biting his thumbs, ye soldiers stampe.
Gyr:
Wilt venter on another?
Pi:
I beseech you
to pardon me & taske me to no more.
Alq:
Come, come, one more, looke you, here's a yong Cockerell
comes crowing into ye pitt.
Another [OMITTED] steps in.
All.
prithee fight wt h him.
Pi:
I'me in ye Lyons gripe, & to gett from him
there's but one way, that's death.
Mac:
English, what say you? will you fight or no?
P:
Ile fight.
All:
give 'em roome, make way there.
P:
Ile fight till every Ioynt be cutt in pieces
to please such brave spectators; yes Ile fight
while I can stand, be you but pleasd, my Lords,
the noble Dukes here, to allow me choice
of my owne Country weapon.
All.
What?
P:
A Quarter staffe, this, were ye head off.
Mac:
Off wt h ye head, & roome. how dost thou like this Spaniard?
P:
Well, he's welcome; here's my old trusty frend, are there no more?
one? what, but one? why I shall make no play
no sport before my princely Iudges with one:
more sackes to ye Mill, come another, what, no more?
Mac:
How many wouldst thou have?
P:
Any number vnder six.
All:
Ha, ha, sure he's mad.
Mac:
Dar'st coape wt h Three?
P:
where are they? let 'em shew their faces, so, welcome.
71
How dost thou like these Chickens?
Pi:
when I have drest them
wt h sorrell sopps Ile tell you.
They fight, one is killd, ye other .2. disarmd.
Drums.
Lad:
Now guard him heaven.
.1.
Hell take thy Quarter staffe.
.2.
pox on thy quarters.
Mac:
The matter? why this noyse?
A noyse wt hin of, Diablo Englese.
Iay:
The soldiers rayle, stampe, & stare, & sweare to cutt
his throat, for all ye Iaylors care of him.
Mac:
Make proclamation, my lord fernando,
that whosoever dares but touch his finger,
to hurt him, dyes.
Fer:
I will sir.
Exit.
Lad:
This is done nobly.
Mac:
Here, give him this gold.
Ten:
The Duke Macada, gives you this gold.
All.
And this.
Ten:
The Duke of Medina this, Duke Gyron, this; &, looke you,
the Marquesse Alqueveze as much as all ye rest.
Alq:
Where's any of my men? give him yor Cloake sirra,
fetch him cleane Band and Cuffes, I embrace thee, Pike,
& hugg thee in my armes; scorne not to weare
72
Pi:
oh my lord, I am proud of't.
Mac:
He shalbe wt h a Convoy sent to the king.
Alq:
4. of my Gentlemen shall along wt h him,
Ile beare thy Charges, soldier, to Madrid,
5. pieces of .8. a day in travell, & lying still
thou shalt have halfe that.
Pi:
On my knees yor Vassaile,
thankes heaven, you, & these Princes.
Mac:
Breake vp ye Court till after noone, then ye .2. Gusmans tryall.
All:
Come English man.
Medy:
how we honor valor thus or loves expresse,
Thou hast a Guard of Dukes and Marquesses.
Exeunt, All.
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