Part 2 (1/2)

_Din._ But for you, most unmindfull of my service, For now I may upbraid you, and with honour, Since all is lost, and yet I am a gainer, In being deliver'd from a torment in you, For such you must have been, you to whom nature Gave with a liberal hand most excellent form, Your education, language, and discourse, And judgement to distinguish, when you shall With feeling sorrow understand how wretched And miserable you have made your self, And but your self have nothing to accuse, Can you with hope from any beg compa.s.sion?

But you will say, you serv'd your Fathers pleasure, Forgetting that unjust commands of Parents Are not to be obey'd, or that you are rich, And that to wealth all pleasure else are servants, Yet but consider, how this wealth was purchas'd, 'Twill trouble the possession.

_Champ._ You Sir know I got it, and with honour.

_Din._ But from whom?

Remember that, and how: you'l come indeed To houses bravely furnish'd, but demanding Where it was bought, this Souldier will not lie, But answer truly, this rich cloth of Arras I made my prize in such a s.h.i.+p, this Plate Was my share in another; these fair Jewels, Coming a sh.o.r.e, I got in such a Village, The Maid, or Matron kill'd, from whom they were ravish'd, The Wines you drink are guilty too, for this, This _Candie_ Wine, three Merchants were undone, These Suckets break as many more: in brief, All you shall wear, or touch, or see, is purchas'd By lawless force, and you but revel in The tears, and grones of such as were the owners.

_Champ._ 'Tis false, most basely false.

_Verta._ Let losers talk.

_Din._ Lastly, those joyes, those best of joyes, which _Hymen_ Freely bestows on such, that come to tye The sacred knot be blesses, won unto it By equal love, and mutual affection, Not blindly led with the desire of riches, Most miserable you shall never taste of.

This Marriage night you'l meet a Widows bed, Or failing of those pleasures all Brides look for, Sin in your wish it were so.

_Champ._ Thou art a Villain, A base, malitious slanderer.

_Cler._ Strike him.

_Din._ No, he is not worth a blow.

_Champ._ O that I had thee In some close vault, that only would yield room To me to use my Sword, to thee no hope To run away, I would make thee on thy knees, Bite out the tongue that wrong'd me.

_Verta._ Pray you have patience.

_Lamira._ This day I am to be your Soveraign, Let me command you.

_Champ._ I am lost with rage, And know not what I am my self, nor you: Away, dare such as you, that love the smoke Of peace more than the fire of glorious War, And like unprofitable drones, feed on Your grandsires labours, that, as I am now, Were gathering Bees, and fill'd their Hive, this Country With brave triumphant spoils, censure our actions?

You object my prizes to me, had you seen The horrour of a Sea-fight, with what danger I made them mine; the fire I fearless fought in, And quench'd it in mine enemies blood, which straight Like oyle pour'd out on't, made it burn anew; My Deck blown up, with noise enough to mock The lowdest thunder, and the desperate fools That Boorded me, sent, to defie the tempests That were against me, to the angrie Sea, Frighted with men thrown o're; no victory, But in despight of the four Elements, The Fire, the Air, the Sea, and sands hid in it To be atchiev'd, you would confess poor men, (Though hopeless, such an honourable way To get or wealth, or honour) in your selves He that through all these dreadfull pa.s.sages Pursued and overtook them, unaffrighted, Deserves reward, and not to have it stil'd By the base name of theft.

_Din._ This is the Courts.h.i.+p, That you must look for, Madam.

_Cler._ 'Twill do well, When nothing can be done, to spend the night with: Your tongue is sound good Lord, and I could wish For this young Ladyes sake this leg, this arm, And there is something else, I will not name, (Though 'tis the only thing that must content her) Had the same vigour.

_Champ._ You shall buy these scoffs With your best blood: help me once n.o.ble anger, (Nay stir not, I alone must right my self) And with one leg transport me, to correct These scandalous praters: O that n.o.ble wounds [_Falls._ Should hinder just revenge! D'ye jear me too?

I got these, not as you do, your diseases In Brothels, or with riotous abuse Of wine in Taverns; I have one leg shot, One arm disabled, and am honour'd more, By losing them, as I did, in the face Of a brave enemy, than if they were As when I put to Sea; you are _French-men_ only, In that you have been laied, and cur'd, goe to: You mock my leg, but every bone about you, Makes you good Almanack-makers, to foretell What weather we shall have.

_Din._ Put up your Sword.

_Cler._ Or turn it to a Crutch, there't may b[e] usefull, And live on the relation to your Wife Of what a brave man you were once.

_Din._ And tell her, What a fine vertue 'tis in a young Lady To give an old man pap.

_Cler._ Or hire a Surgeon To teach her to roul up your broken limbs.

_Din._ To make a Pultess, and endure the scent Of oils, and nasty Plasters.

_Verta._ Fie Sir, fie, You that have stood all dangers of all kinds, to Yield to a Rivalls scoffe?

_Lamira._ Shed tears upon Your Wedding day? this is unmanly Gentlemen.