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Scene 4.

The Scene changes to the Fort upon Windmill-hill. Engineer Pedro, Spinosa, and other Officers and Souldiers appear.
Pedro.
To see the various effects of Fortune!
Thrice has this place been in the Enemies hands,
And thrice they have been beaten out again,
With more then Roman Bravery by the Souldiers.

Spinosa.
Major, If any thing of War I know,
I think it is not safe to keep the place
In our own Power; indeed? must be confest,
To take it, they have now already lost
In their Attaques about Two thousand Men.
A pretty Sum for such a trifling Post.

Pedro.
Your Advice, What must be done?
My orders from the Prince are independent.
He giving me a large and full Commission,
To act as I should judge most proper for the safety
Of Mons distrest; now, Sir, with low submission
To your grave Judgment, I esteem it fittest
That instantly we blow the Wind-mill up.

Spinosa.
No flattery, Pedro, I resign my self
And thoughts entirely to your wise directions;
Souldier— (speaking to one)
how stands the Enemy abroad?


1. Souldier.

My Lord, they're very busie in working upon the
Trenches, little thinking poor Curs they are digging their own
Graves.


Pedro.

Is the Coast free from any straggling Troops?



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2. Souldier.

Yes, my Lord, only half a Dozen or so together, a
louzing themselves in the Sun; I wonder what quarters the poor
Vermin can find upon such thread-bare Coats.


Spinosa.
Then March all out, but not in heaps at once.
But three or four together to the Town,
Put on a chearful look as unconcern'd,
The last that stay, are Pedro and my self,
Who with a Train will blow the Windmill up,
Then try our utmost valour in the Siege.

1. Souldier.

We go, my Lord, we go; but if we should
meet with a Party of French in our way, we cannot forbear boxing
'em for our Lives, poor rotten Rogues; for t'other Day I
twang'd one of them by the Nose, and with a slight pull it came
off into my hand, I believe all his Carcass was of the same Brittle
Ware.


Spinosa.
Be cautious, tho' in all your undertakings.
Pedro have you affixt the Train?

Pedro.
I have, my Lord.

Now for the Town, where Fortune seems to vary,
But Heaven forbid our Arms should still Miscarry.