Volume Iii Part 43 (1/2)
_Capt_. 'Tis impossible to scape, we must fight it out.
_Fran_. Fight it out! oh, I'm not able to indure it,--why, what the Devil made me a s.h.i.+p-board?
[_Ex_. Cap.
_Guil_. Why, where be these _Turks_? set me to 'em, I'll make 'em smoke, Dogs, to dare attack a man of Quality.
_Isa_. Oh, the Insolence of these _Turks_! do they know who's aboard?
for Heaven's sake, my Lord, do not expose your n.o.ble Person.
_Guil_. What, not fight?--Not fight! A Lord, and not fight? Shall I submit to Fetters, and see my Mistress ravish'd by any great _Turk_ in Christendom, and not fight?
_Isa_. I'd rather be ravish'd a thousand times, than you should venture your Person.
[_Seamen shout within_.
_Fran_. Ay, I dare swear.
_Enter Seaman_.
_Sea_. Ah, Sirs, what mean you? Come on the Deck for shame.
_Ant_. My Lord, let us not tamely fall, there's danger near. [_Draws_.
_Guil_. Ay, ay, there's never smoke, but there's some fire--Come, let's away--ta la, tan ta la, la la, &c. [Draws.
[Exit _singing, and_ Antonio _and_ Pet.
_Fran_. A Pox of all Lords, I say, you must be janting in the Devil's name, and G.o.d's dry Ground wou'd not serve your turn. [_Shout here_.
Oh, how they thunder! What shall I do?--oh, for some Auger-hole to thrust my head into, for I could never indure the noise of Cannons,--oh, 'tis insupportable,--intolerable--and not to be indur'd.
[_Running as mad about the Stage_.
_Isa_. Dear Father, be not so frighted. [_Weeps_.
_Fran_. Ah, Crocodile, wou'd thou hadst wept thy Eyes out long ago, that thou hadst never seen this Count; then he had never lov'd thee, and then we had never been invited a s.h.i.+p-board.
[_A noise of fighting_.
_Enter_ Guiliom, Pet. _and_ Antonio, driven in fighting by Guzman _and other_ Turks.
_Ant_. Ah, Sir, the _Turks_ have boarded us, we're lost, we're lost.
_Fran_. Oh, I am slain, I'm slain. [_Falls down_.
_Guil_. Hold, hold, I say, you are now in the presence of Ladies, and 'tis uncivil to fight before Ladies.
_Guz_. Yield then, you are our Slaves.
_Guil_. Slaves, no Sir, we're Slaves to none but the Ladies.
[_Offers to fight_.
_Isa_. Oh, hold, rude man,--d'ye know whom you encounter?