University of Virginia Library

Act. I.

Scen. I.

A March within, the word, 1. stand, 2. stand, 3. stand: drumme beates a summons, trumpets sound: then enter
Valenzo, Contareno, Galeotto.
Val.
There, take your orders, and dispatch;
Your known faiths will not let me doubt th'observance
Of the least circumstance.

Gal.
Yet give me leave (most noble Generall
To aske the reason, since his Highnesse left
A free dispose at his departure, why
You should use so much severity in your commands?

Cont.

Not a man enter the citty on forfeiture of his life?
they'r somewhat hard conditions; I've enter'd a Kingdome,
and help't to winne it too, on farre easier termes; this o'th
sudden, and so unexpected may meete with a harsh construction.

Gal.
For mine owne part, I've bin so long absent,
Especially being a poore servant to the state too,
I dare conclude I'me lost to all their memories;
Nor do I love the Campe so ill, to part with it
To win upon their faiths; urge a tedious catalogue
Of my dead ancestours, and then search records
To shew I was their country-man; all this
For a cold welcome, or an annuall pension;
To shew my scores of wounds, that tally up
So many months pay behind hand: which
After seven yeares misery in an hospitall,
Shall be both wip't off together: yet all
Are not of my humour.

Cont.
What though your dull fat Senators, those land-Porpices,
That skip, and friske i'th storme they n'ere are hurt with,
Those heavy lubbers, lapt in sweaty furres,
Batning on sleepe and ease, lie snorting out
The peace poore Souldiers purchase,
And not so much as dreame of toyle, or danger,
Sleight what they are ignorant of: yet you (my Lord)
May know, if cold and lazy recompences injure
Our high deserts, such usage kils outright:

Gal.
True Contareno, that is their intent.

Cont.

L'as we bring no diseases home with us, unlesse valour
be one; no meager troopes of thinne starvelings, that they
should feare a famine from our commerce, we have fed high,
though somewhat irreverently: nor returne wee in our old
skins, blew coats, thrum'd cappes, that harbour so much vermine,
they might feare we'de scatter one of Egypts plagues
among them; and make e'm all lowsie.

Val.
Enjoy the freedome of your speech; yet know
That they are ignorant of these injunctions,
And for a testimony of their loves
Unto your faire deservings, are all ready
To meete their Countries patriots, (so they terme you)
After their ancient custome, with procession;

Gal.
Shew us an enemy then, or danger that is reall,
And not the birth of feare, and we'le returne:

Val.
Nay, you may stay at home too:

Gal.
At home?

Cont.
'Tis so:

Our sons of peace have caught a surfeit, & would be physick't
for't: ha! doe they mutiny? doe the fierce rammes advance
their hornes, to batter downe the walls that kept them safe?

Val.
Be more compos'd and heare me, though you hate
Treason as ill as cowardice, yet I must
Tell you, you're the men have brought
The enemy home to Naples, I meane the army:
For what lesse can I terme such a vast body,
Consisting of such disproportion'd members;
Flesh't with the spoyles of fertile Sicily,
Enrich't with what a happy soyle can yeeld
To an insulting conquerour; fed too
With glorious hopes of ease, and plenty?
You know how hard a taske you underwent
To governe them abroad, when tam'd by want,
Thirst, hunger, heate, and cold; judge then what sway
Authority can beare, when by this change
They are growne mad, and mutinous; who shall
Compose their private jarres, and quarrels, when
Their full cups adde fury to their pride?

Gal.
Enough: this speech hath cut of all reply,

Val.
Besides, you know Sicily is now in Naples;
The Prince a captive to his Prisoner:
How farre his easie nature may be wrought upon
Is yet uncertaine, his yeares though they have outdone
History, are not yet grown up to the ripenesse of experience.
For my severity; (I'de gladly have
You call it by another name;) it is
My duty, (if not yours) i take it, to be vigilant.

Gal.
My Lord, thinke what I spake was but to gaine
Satisfaction, which you have amply given.

Cont.
And what should I doe i'th City? that retaine
No more of my education there, than what I gain'd
In the Artillery yard: my company
Would be shun'd there more than poverty,
Or a disease; I should be interdicted
The Court, meerly because I'me out of fashion,
Or for feare of challenges—Troth for the Ladies,
The homeliest please mee best; I am as much
Too rough hewen for them, as they're too polisht for me
My constitution requires a dispatch
I'th vaulting businesse, beyond that of tedious
Niceties, and wittie prologues.

Val.
Gonçales, and Petrucchio's regiment
I've left aboard to guard the fleete, your's must
Make safe the Castle, and the land forts; you
Cannot endeare mee more than by your circumspection;
The Citty will be all in triumphat
These nuptials, twixt our long divided houses;
Thinke these Sicilian's, though you have wonne
And forc't them to groane beneath your sword, may yet
At heart be traitours; if not, oportunitie
May make them so; at such a time as this
Surprize is easie; history hath such examples,
Unfortunate ones; and you'de be loath to adde
Unto the number.

Gal.
You have chalk't out a way
That leads to honour, and we are hastie
To pursue it:

Val.
I shall report you noble.

Cont.
And Generall, de'e heare, if you meet with
Ere a masculine feminine, that has impudence
Enough, to follow an army, a wench of twagging hanches,
And full thighs, send her to mee, she shall be my laundresse.

Val.
Good Captaine be lesse wild, and use mee,
To the losse of honour.

Exeunt Captaines.

SCEN. II.

Valenzo, a servant.
(Enter Piero.
Val.
Didst meet with him?—he's here already.
Valenzo runs to embrace him, Piero retires.
Piero!—why this distance?
Is't in the power of severall climes to breake
Our sympathies in nature? true, I have
Bin long estrang'd from you, not from your vertue;
Why then should you deny your strict embraces?

Pier.
Valenzo! you are growne too great, and glorious
For my friendship; become a theame for Princes,
Whose worthy acts in rich their high discourse:
The greedy multitude, snatching each word,
As it falls from 'em, weare your praise
As their best ornament!

Val.
How have I lost my friend,
And see Piero, for being so thou would'st
Nor mocke, nor flatter me!

Pier.
Alas Valenzo!
Your prejudice your Princes wisdome, and
Your owne just merits, those favours yet
Were never worne by them, that had not first
Deserv'd them.

Val.
You meane these titles, vaine and emptie names;
Let mee enjoy thee still, I'le disinvest
My selfe of all additions, can but swell
Our pride, not vertue up; my Ancestours
Have left mee rich enough in title to
Your friendship, and fore I forfeit that!—
(Embrace.)
That wee could mingle soules.—

Pier.
Though you be prodigall of your affections,
Yet be not cruell to your Charintha,
Who must needs suffer in this wilfull scorne,
You throw on that your valour dearly purchast.

Val.
Charintha mine! I hold all worth in her.

Pier.
Were you as monstrous for impiety, as now
You are fam'd for vertue, such was her pious thrift,
In treasuring up her cleane and humble prayers,
You could not die unpardon'd, every houre
(As you are alwaies lyable to danger,)
Can witnesse, with what forward zeale she begg'd
Heaven, to avert the stroake before it came:
We have taken so much pleasure in her orizons,
That even prophane men to have heard her pray,
Would turne devout, were there no merit in't.

Val.
No more; my reason yeelds unto my passion.
And 'tis a joy requires mee meete it with
My best temper; I would not surfeit
Nor swallow it too greedily; some light mixture
Of griefe would give a relish to't; tell me, come—
What face weares the Court? how lookes it
On our new dignities? Envie (like the Sunne)
Darts her beames hottest on the rising bankes:
Ursini the grand favorite, is at Court,
And has his Princes bosome?

Pier.
That's his sanctuary,
His safety lies there, yet (though I professe
No augury) I foresee, and read
His fall, all these vast glories which he boasts,
Are built upon the ruines of Alberto,
His tombe-stone is the basis of that building,
Which we admire, but thinke not safe.

Val.
There was a noble house soone lost.

Pier.
Sooner (I beleeve) than t'will be forgotten;
But what was that Frederico, Albert's sonne?

Val.
One that with his father's vertues
Inherited his unhappy fate, young he was,
And valiant; receiv'd and knowne so.

Pier.
Had hee beene lesse fam'd, he had not yet
Beene number'd with the dead; (you are my friend,
My Lord) I speake my thoughts, and freely;—
Ursini endures no rivall.

Val.
I've maintain'd
Faire correspondencie with him at distance,
But like not his embracements.

Pier.
T'is dangerous to be neere him;
There's such an Antipathy, twixt him, and vertue,
He weares it's ruine in his lookes.

Val.
'Tis strange,
A Prince so wise and vertuours should not descry
His falshood through his visour; or at least
Lend eare to the loud cries of wronged Innocents.

Pier.
He hath no use of either eare, or eye,
But what his lov'd Ursini lends him; hee
Onely rules, and limits his affections;
Suffers him not to cast a frowne or smile,
But where he pleases; his next indearement, is
His care o'th Princesse, our Sicilian captive:
Whom sorrow for her fathers death, (slaine in
The warre, by him that was design'd her lover;
Our fam'd Prince Ferrando,) has brought
Into a desperate melancholy; what reward
He expects, I cannot tell, unlesse it be
The Crowne: you have heard of her strange distemper?

Val.
And wonder at the sudden change:
I've seene her, maugre all those sudden feares,
Her tender age, and womanhood could urge;
Stand in the head of troopes, that we ev'n fear'd
They had engag'd some Goddesse in their quarrell;
Beare up against the enemy, when her men
Lay scatter'd in the plaines, like the ripe eares
The wealthy harvest yeelds into the Grange.

Pier.
I know not how but sure sh'as made the King
Wilde; he has such divers fits, as he had learn'd
To be mysterious in's passion; I have seene him weepe,
Like a fond mother o're her tender babe,
Whom too rude fate has ravish't unripe from her:
Then rave, and curse, talke as he wanted reason
To guide his speeches Organ: or soft sleepe
To recall his stragling senses:
Mutter distracted thoughts in broken words,
Untill he lights upon her name, and then
He bowes at the recitall; blesses himselfe
In th'often repetition of Calantha.

Val.
There's somewhat in't, her passion should lye hid
So long, and now breake out so violently.
She rather seem'd too thrifty, than too prodigall
Of teares, when she left Sicily; and taught us
To call't our chiefest happinesse, we should have
A Queene, that raign'd at home, that bore more sway
Over the people of her brest, than country.

Pier.
Alas poore maid! why now she's a true captive
To passion, and to Naples: had shee beene still
Queene over her great selfe, none could have said
She'd beene unhappy; now, and not till now
She's truly miserable.

Val.
'Tis holinesse to pittie her.

Pier.
Our teares are better spent upon her sorrowes,
Than our owne sinnes, she talkes so prettily,
Clothes griefe in such a sad, and pious garbe,
So void of any rudenesse, that wee see
Composednesse in distraction, reason in madnesse;
She never walkes but when she's led along,
And that so faintly, as she had not spirits
Enough to actuate her tender limbes:
Want of meate and sleepe have made her seeme
A living coarse: to see her weepe, you'de feare
That every drop were her owne funerall teare.

(Exeunt.

SCEN. III.

Enter Fungoso, Zisco running after him.
Zis.
—Hell, and furies!—

(kickes him, & exit.
Fun.
Oh! oh! oh!

A Moore! a divell! a meere divell! his very lookes spake him
so, but for his club-foote, his damnable club-foote, (Asse that
I was not to see it, I'me sure I feele it now,) 'tis an infallible
signe: This damn'd Divell did I bring to Court, and preferr'd
him; but I'me serv'd well enough, he that doe's the Divell a
good turne shall be sure to bee thus rewarded. If I should
chance to die a sinner (as 'tis ten to one but I shall,) hee'le
know mee againe, for I shall carry his markes to my grave:
because my Lord Ursini was pleas'd to exchange some few
words with him in private, he grew so insolent, that I going

to strike him (in passion, in choller I confesse) he falls a kicking
me in'th open Court.

Enter Cassio, and Gratti whispering
'Twas my Lord Ursini's command.

Fun.

And looks, as if he would, have spet fire; but had I not
knowne him to be a divell indeed, I'de spet fire with him.

Grut.
How? so hot Signiour?

Cassi.
Men in anger may do any thing.

Fung.
Any thing? with your leave Sir,
And you're a foole, and an asse.—

Gives him a boxe on th'eare.
Cass.
Do'e find it so by my eares?—
And I'le try what you are—

Grut.
Draw i'th Court? I must see the peace kept.

Fung.

Gentlemen, you know I'me passionate, cholericke,
somewhat cholericke.

Cass.

And I intend to physicke you for't; here's that will
allay your heat.

Grut.

'Tis downe already.

Cassio puts up his sword.
Fun.

I won't be jeer'd.

Grut.

Wee intend no abuse, Signiour, wee onely came to
gratulate your good fortune, you are turn'd favourite of late.

Fung.

It has pleas'd his Majesty to take some small notice
of mee.

Grut.

Yes, and the Ladies speake high, & gloriously of you.

Fung.

Of mee?

Cass.

You could not but observe it as you walk't the streets:
you are the onely object they gaze at.

Fung.

In troth I did not thinke—

Grut.

Come you are modest now.

Cass.

Who was't you bless't to'ther day with a favour?

Fung.

I give a favour?

Grut.

Why man? you meant it should be seene.

Fung.

I slip't a point indeed in a Countesses chamber.

Grut.

Slip't a point?

Fun.

Drop't it, drop't it, but t'was not worth the taking up.

Cass.

And yet I've heard her boast it as a speciall gift from
your owne hands.

Fung.

Indeed I flung it somewhat scornfuly, because shee
was very importunate; troth I was angry, shee would have
none but that.

Grut.

Wer't not for this filthy fretting humour of yours, I
could tell you—

Fung.

What good Grutti?

Grut.

Of a Lady.

Fung.

By my best hopes in love with me, is she not?

Grut.

I'me not so happy as to be acquainted with her intents,
but I have heard her in my Lord Ursini's presence
commend you highly.

Fung.

Prithee who is't?

Grut.

The Lady Charintha.

Fung.

The Lady Charintha; what should I do with her?
she's honest, the onely precise Madame of the Court.

Grut.

They that drop the most beads, may commit the most
sinnes, but wer't not so, you have a kind of tempting presence,
and besides—

Whisper.
Fung.

Oh! I understand you, she's his Lordship's reversion.

Grut.

St, not a word.

Fung.

I'le to her presently.

Exit.
Grut.

This is my Lord Ursini's plot, to slander that Ladies
chastitie.

Cass.

And he has charg'd me, to whisper't about Court, that
he has enjoy'd her.

Grut.

I wonder much, since he seekes her himselfe in marriage,
why hee should thus traduce her.

Cass.

On my conscience she's vertuous.

Grut.

His plots are darke, and mystie, but come, prithee let's
leave this talke, we have state knowledge enough already to
make us melancholy: I'le shew thee a scene of mirth—

Cass.

Where lies it?

Grut.

This Physitian that was sent for hither from the Universitie
to our melancholy Princesse, they say, indures no
musicke, and I've prepar'd a whole confort of these gutscrapers
this morning to salute him; no doubt but hee'le bee
be very bountifull.

Cass.

If the varlets can make good use of his charity.

Grut.

I wonder much the Court endures him here; he's an
odde humersome fellow.

Cass.

His art priviledges him.

Exeunt.

SCEN. IV.

Ursini. a Servant.
Ser.

My Lord.—

Urs.

Conduct that Moore hither, and see wee have all privacie
that may be.

Ser.

Hee shall weare my life upon his sword that enters
without my leave.

Exit Ser.

Enter Zisco.
Urs.
See, he comes: here's one that's fit to kill a King,
A thing, whose soule is nothing but a spot
Transmitted from foule parricides, whose thoughts
aside.
Weare a more deepe and horrid blacke, than that
Which spreads upon his body—
My Zisco welcome.

Zisc.
This day my Lord—

Urs.
No more, I know what thou would'st say: I promis'd
To endeare thee to Ferrando's love, and knowledge,
Are you according to my instructions ready
To meete all his demands?

Zis.
Perfect.

Urs.
With a forg'd Commendamus from his holinesse?

Zisc.
—Of my stout service done against the Turkes
In the Lepanto battle, where I turn'd Christian,
And was baptiz'd in mine owne blood.

Urs.
'Tis well, but how stands't thou resolv'd for our designe?

Zisc.
Unmov'd as destiny.
—Could you have told me of it in that minute
I should have acted it, I'de owe you for
The glory of a sinne, I might have boasted of;
What we intend, nere rises to that height
As what we act, because t'may prove abortive,
And perish in the thought, and for such crimes,
I onely have repentance.

Urs.
But he's a Prince—

Zisc.
Why there's the honour on't,
Killing the head, I kill the body too,
And at one blow lay a whole Kingdome gasping.

Urs.
—One upon whom attends a guard of men,
And Angels, on whose brow divinity
Sits character'd, a Majestie that darts
Fork't arrows into the guilty soule, and strikes
A palsied feare through every limbe and joy at
Of the murderer.

Zisc:
Fancie, fancie this.
I'me proofe against it; Ile take him in's cups
When he's drunke, betray him to a rape,
Or fowler sinne, then kill him in the act.

Urs.
Whom?

Zis.
The King.

Urs.
Traytour.

Zis.
'Tis as soone done as thought of.

Urs:
He never lov'd thee Zisco, nor was knowne
By speciall favours to deserve thee to him;
But he has made me great, worne me in's soule;
His father tooke mee up, when I was nothing,
Bequeath'd me to him, as a care hereditary,
Belonging to the Crowne, plac't mee so neere him,
I've growne, and spread like a tall mountaine Cedar.

Zisc:
And dare encounter lightning, stand a thunder-bolt,
Or enrag'd winds; contend with that high influence
By which you flourish, yet nere feare a blasting:
His favour is a tyranny; it is
The pride of Princes, to be thought Gods here
On earth, daring to mocke omnipotence,
To create them favourites, set them aloft
In their owne spheare, till remote Kingdomes gaze
At their prodigious height, then in an instant
Shoote them from thence, like falling meteors:
Had he not lov'd you first, you could not be
The object of his hate, you were too poore,
And safe, when 'twas, to have him glory in
Your ruines: innocence below enjoyes
Security, and quiet sleepes, murder's not heard of,
Treachery is a stranger there, they enjoy
Their friends, and loves, without ravishment,
They are all equall, every one's a Prince,
And rules himselfe, they speake not with their eyes,
Or browes, but with the tongue, & that too dwells i'th heart:
Were it but thus at Court,
Alberto, your fam'd Marquesse had not fallen.—

Urs.
Alberto: ha.

Zis:
Why start you Sir?

Urs:
'Tis he: Frederico.
Aside.
Oh that man! he was unhappie in his Princes love.

Zis:
Your honours are no more your owne than his:
'T was the same favour that conferr'd them both,
And the same frowne may take 'em both away:
He lets you onely grow till you are envy'd,
And then you'le fall unpittied.

Urs.
I have learn'd cruelty from him:
Zisco, thou shalt applaud the mysteries,
The rare contrivances of my revenge;
My fate lyes in his brest, but this, this arme
Shall ravish't thence.

Zisc.
Now your rage becomes you:
When Princes put off their humanity,
Murders, a holy sinne, you may be good,
And fall like him, whose aged head lies low,
Low in the dust.

Urs.
Againe? this confirmes it.

Aside.
Zis.
The groanes of whose sunke house, are heard
To affright strangers; whilst Naples yet
Stain'd with the purple tyde, his soule swam forth in,
Do's blush at it's owne guilt; his sonne Frederico
(You know) was lost at Sicily in a croud.

Urs.
'Tis so reported, yet I beleeve—

Zisc.
My Lord.

Urs.
That he was slaine at Ferrando's command.

Zis.
Perhaps and by a slave.
Felicia too, unhappy maid—

Urs.
Your sister, (aside,)
—I there,
Now thou strik'st home.

Zis.
First wonne to his embraces
By vollies of false oathes, her virgin honour
Rifled, her chast wombe swolne with the imposthume
Of his salt lust, then torne with spight from's bosome,
Ravish't, murder'd, and by whom? (I could hate my selfe,
For taking birth amongst such,) cursed Moores:
Were shee your enemy, her cause, and sex
Would challenge pitty; but you lov'd her dearly,
The Mistresse you ador'd; who then can thinke
But that your soule is blacke, and stain'd as his,
That are thus tame?

Urs.
Zisco, th'ast rais'd a flame within this breast
Nought but his blood can quench:—thanks to my braine;—
It shall be so;—The fatall raven croakes;
'Tis ominous, if he outlive this night
We are no more:—Come we'le goe plot within.

Exeunt.

SCEN. V.

Grutti. Cassio.
Grut.
Here's his, studie,

Cass.
Is he there?

Looking from the Stage through the bangings
Grut.
Yet do but observe his posture:

How he sits like a reverend Ape painted upon a Gally-pot,
with an Urinall in's hand.

Cass.

Faith Signior, in my judgement y'have wrong'd your
simile.

Grut.

He's casting the Princesse's water.

Cass.

Not upon his beard I hope.

Grut.

Reading in't—

Cass.

The colour of's copper-nose.

Grut.

All the plots of Sicily; I warrant the poore Lady has
not a thought escapes him.

Cass.

The Sex has beene allwayes accounted open, yet I
neere knew a State betray'd that way; some Ladies would be
in a pittifull case, if their secrets could be read in their Gentlewomans—

Enter musitians.
Grut.
Foh, they're mere sives.
—Come, come, these are his Lordships Lodgings,
He came home late yesternight, and I beleeve
Is scarce stirring yet.—Your last new tune,

Soft musicke
Cass.
This musicke sure will make him dance antick.

Grut.

Not yet? poxe on him, he's a sleepe in's studie: ha
you noe loud musicke? perhaps his Lordship likes that better.

Bent.

So, ho, oh, ho, ho, murder, murder, murder,

Cass.

Enter Hieronymo from his naked bed.

Loud musicke. Enter Bentivoglio.
Gr.

Hieronymo was drunke then last night, he
lay in's clothes.

Bent.

Rogues base rogues, scabby rogues, pockie
rogues, out, out rascals, abuse his Majesties Physitian,
offer to play under my nose, foh, how the
Grutty and Cassio stept behind the hangings.
rogues stinke: farts, poyson'd farts, foh, these
meager-chapt rascalls eate so much brimstone, and salt butter,
that they outstinke hell: had these farts beene let in Wales,
they would have bred the plague there,—let mee see—
who should this bee that should abuse mee thus, let mee but
finde him out, and be he the best i'th Court, it shall goe hard
but I'le have a quaint poison for him, shall worke a little otherwise
with him than this has done with me.

Enter Grutti, and Cassio, as over-hearing him.
Cass.

The best i'th Court?

Grut.

A quaint poyson for him.

Cass.

Do's your retirednesse lead you to treason? let's apprehend
him:

Grut.

For a Traytour.

Bent.

Nay good Gentlemen, what shall I do? I'me undone.

Cass.

A quaint poyson I—so it was.

Grut.

And for the best i'th Court.

Bent.

In troth, Signiours, I meant it not.

Cass.

'Twas too much you said it, Sir.

Bent.

Doe but conceale mee.—

Cass.

Then you'le confesse, and bring us in as parties.

Bent.

May I be hang'd if I doe; besides, what ever secret
disease you have about you, I'le cure you gratis.

Grut.

And thinke no more of poysoning them, that brought
the musitians to your window; 'twas our plot Sir.

Bent.

I forgive you, and pray Gentlemen use mee for your
Physitian when ever the state of your bodies requires it. I'le
learne secrecie of you.

Both.

Agreed.

Exit Bent.

Cass.

Faith Grutty, this plot was well thought on; I could
finde in my heart to trust him.

Grut.

You may; and hence forward I'le sinne with lesse
scruple.

Exeunt.

SCEN. VI.

Ursini.
'Tis hee—I am confirm'd: Frederico, Albert's
Sonne—I'le let him live conceal'd, he's a sure
Instrument, and will serve mee for all turnes.
—humph,—could he thinke his puling sisters,
Or his Fathers, wrongs, sate so heavy on my heart-strings,
That I could be mov'd to kill my Prince
In their revenge? Indeed I lov'd her once,
Till I enjoy'd her, but she's lost, so is her memory;
I've higher thoughts now; Charintha is my aime,
Ferrando's niece; next heire to the Crowne;
Mine by his promise: can I but divorce
Valenzo from her love, together with
His life, I'me safe; 'tis that I am contriving:
He is my rivall both in a Mistresse, and
A Princes favour.—Who waits within there? ho.

Cass.
My Lord.

Enter Cass:
Urs.

Have you perform'd what I commanded you concerning
the Lady?

Cass.

Charintha? 'tis done Sir; Fungoso streight intends a
visit there.

Urs.

Leave mee— (Exit Cass.)
'Tis well, if this slander
can but pull on murder upon him, or any of my servants, from
Valenzo's hand, his head shall answer for't; I am his judge.

(My power over the King makes mee so:)
And he shall find mee cruell; then the fort is mine,
In which his souldiers are in garrison;
This night the French, and Geno wayes intend
To ceize our emptie fleete, that rides i'th harbour;
Those men I have indear'd,—
Mount, mount my soule, let no feare weigh thee downe,
He stakes his life that thus casts at a Crowne.

Exit.