Goodl. You give yourself too much to melancholy. Spenc. These are my maxims; and were they as faithfully practised by others as truly apprehended by me, we should have less oppression, and more charity.

Enter the two Captains that were before.

1 Capt. Make good thy words.

2 Capt. I say, thou hast injured me. 1 Capt. Tell me wherein.

2 Capt. When we assaulted Fayal,

And I had, by the General's command,
The onset, and with danger of my person

Enforc'd the Spaniard to a swift retreat,

And beat them from their fort, thou, when thou saw'st

All fear and danger past, mad'st up with me,

To share that honour which was sole mine own,

And never ventured shot for't, or e'er came
Where bullet graz'd.

Spenc. See, captain, a fray towards.
Let's, if we can, atone this difference.

Goodl. Content.

1 Capt. I'll prove it with my sword,

That though thou had'st the foremost place in field,
And I the second, yet my company

Was equal in the entry of the fort.

My sword was that day drawn as soon as thine,

And that poor honour which I won that day

Was but my merit.

2 Capt. Wrong me palpably,

And justify the same?

Spenc. You shall not fight.

1 Capt. Why, sir, who made you first a justicer,

And taught you that word shall? You are no Gene

ral;

Or, if you be, pray show us your commission.

Spenc. Sir, you have no commission but my counsel, And that I'll show you, freely.

2 Capt. 'Tis some chaplain.
1 Capt. I do not like his text.

Goodl. Let's beat their weapons down.

1 Capt. I'll aim at him that offers to divide us!

2 Capt. Pox of these part-frays! see, I am wounded, By beating down my weapon.

Goodl. How fares my friend?

Spenc. You sought for blood, and, gentlemen, you have it.

Let mine appease you: I am hurt to death.

1 Capt. My rage converts to pity, that this gentleman Shall suffer for his goodness.

Goodl. Noble friend,

I will revenge thy death.

Spenc. He is no friend

That murmurs such a thought.—Oh, gentlemen,
I kill'd a man in Plymouth, and by you
Am slain in Fayal. Carroll fell by me,'
And I fall by a Spencer. Heaven is just,
And will not suffer murder unreveng'd.
Heaven pardon me, as I forgive you both!
Shift for yourselves: away!

2 Capt. We saw him die,

But grieve you should so perish.

Spenc. Note Heaven's justice,

And henceforth make that use on't. I shall faint.

1 Capt. Short farewells now must serve. If thou

surviv'st,

Live to thine honour; but if thou expir'st,

Heaven take thy soul to mercy.

Spenc. I bleed much;

I must go seek a surgeon.

Goodl. Sir, how cheer you?

[Exeunt.

Spenc. Like one that's bound upon a new adventure
To th' other world: yet thus much, worthy friend,
Let me entreat you, since I understand

The Fleet is bound for England, take your occasion
To ship yourself, and when you come to Foy,
Kindly commend me to my dearest Bess:
Thou shalt receive a will, in which I have

Possessed her of five hundred pounds a year.

Goodl. A noble legacy.

Spenc. The rest I have bestow'd amongst my friends; Only reserving a bare hundred pounds,

To see me honestly and well interr'd.

Goodl. I shall perform your trust as carefully

As to my father, breath'd he.

Spenc. Mark me, captain.

Her legacy I give with this proviso:

If, at thy arrival where my Bess remains,

Thou find'st her well reported, free from scandal,

My will stands firm; but if thou hear'st her branded

For loose behaviour, or immodest life,

What she should have, I here bestow on thee:

It is thine own; but, as thou lov'st thy soul,

Deal faithfully betwixt my Bess and me.

Goodl. Else let me die a prodigy.

Spenc. This ring was hers; that, be she loose or chaste,

Being her own, restore her: she will know it;
And doubtless she deserves it. Oh, my memory!

What had I quite forgot? She hath my picture.
Goodl. And what of that?

Spenc. If she be rank'd among the loose and lewd, Take it away: I hold it much indecent

A whore should ha't in keeping; but if constant,
Let her enjoy it. This my will perform,

As thou art just and honest.

Goodl. Sense else forsake me.

Spenc. Now lead me to my chamber. All's made even— My peace with earth, and my atone with Heaven.

Enter Bess Bridges, like a Page, with a sword; and Clem.

Bess. But that I know my mother to be chaste,

I'd swear some soldier got me.

Clem. It may be many a soldier's buff jerkin came out of your father's tan-vat.

Bess. Methinks I have a manly spirit in me, In this man's habit.

Clem. Now, am not I of many men's minds; for, if you should do me wrong, I should not kill you, though I took you pissing against a wall.

Bess. Methinks I could be valiant on the sudden, And meet a man i' th' field.

I could do all that I have heard discours'd

Of Mary Ambree, or Westminster Long Meg.

Clem. What Mary Ambree was I cannot tell; but unless you were taller, you will come short of Long Meg.

Bess. Of all thy fellows, thee I only trust,

And charge thee to be secret.

Clem. I am bound in my indentures to keep my master's secrets; and should I find a man in bed with you, I would not tell.

Bess. Begone, sir; but no words, as you esteem my favour.

Clem. But, mistress, I could wish you to look to your long seams; fights are dangerous. But am not I in a sweet taking, think you?

Bess. I prithee, why?

Clem. Why, if you should swagger and kill anybody,

I, being a vintner, should be called to the bar.

Bess. Let none condemn me of immodesty,

[Exit.

Because I try the courage of a man,

Who on my soul's a coward; beats my servants,
Cuffs them, and, as they pass by him, kicks my maids;

Nay, domineers over me, making himself

Lord o'er my house and household. Yesternight

I heard him make appointment on some business
To pass alone this way. I'll venture fair,

But I will try what's in him.

Enter Roughman and Forset.

Fors. Sir, I can now no farther; weighty business Calls me away.

Rough. Why, at your pleasure, then.

Yet I could wish that ere I past this field
That I could meet some Hector, so your eyes

Might witness what myself have oft repeated,
Namely, that I am valiant.

Fors. Sir, no doubt; but now I am in haste. Farewell.

Rough. How many times brave words bear out a

man!

For if he can but make a noise, he's fear'd.
To talk of frays, although he ne'er had heart
To face a man in field, that's a brave fellow.
I have been valiant, I must needs confess,
In street and tavern, where there have been men
Ready to part the fray; but for the fields,

They are too cold to fight in.

Bess. You are a villain, a coward; and you lie. Rough. You wrong me, I protest. Sweet, courteous gentleman, I never did you wrong.

Bess. Wilt tell me that?

Draw forth thy coward sword, and suddenly,

Or, as I am a man, I'll run thee through,

And leave thee dead i' th' field.