Chapter II: Part 2

_Amin._ Good Sir.

_Tib._ You shall grow mummy rascals;
I'll make you fall to your brawns, and your buttocks,
And worry one another like keen bandogs.

_Amin._ Good Sir be merciful.

_Tib._ You shall know what 'tis to be damn'd, Canibals.

_Amin._ O my best friend!

_Enter_ Albert.

_Al._ Alas poor heart! here,
Here's some meat and sovereign drink to ease you,
Sit down gentle Sweet.

_Amin._ I am blest to see you.

_Tib._ Stir not within forty foot of this food,
If you do dogs!

_All._ Oh, Captain, Captain, Captain.

_Alb._ Ye shall have meat all of you.

_Tib._ Captain, hear me first: hark,
'Tis so inhumane! I would not ha the air corrupted with it.

_Alb._ O barbarous men! sit down _Du-pont_,
Good Master, and honest Saylors.

_Tib._ But stand you off,
And waite upon our charity; I'll wait on you else;
And touch nothing but what's flung ye; as if you were dogs;
If you do, I'll cut your fingers; friends,
I'll spoil your carving.

_Amin._ There wretches, there.

_Tib._ Eat your meat handsomely now,
And give Heaven thanks.

_Alb._ There's more bread.

_Tib._ See, they snarle like dogs;
Eat quietly you Rascals, eat quietly.

_Alb._ There is drink too.

_Tib._ Come, come, I'll fill you each your cups,
Ye shall not surfet.

_Amin._ And what have you discover'd?

_Alb._ Sweet, a paradise,
A paradise inhabited with Angels,
Such as you are: their pitties make 'm Angels,
They gave me these viands, and supply'd me
With these pretious drinks.

_Amin._ Shall not we see 'em?

_Alb._ Yes, they will see you
Out of their charities, having heard our story,
They will come, and comfort us, come presently;
We shall no more know wants nor miseries.

_Amin._ Are they all women?

_Alb._ All, and all in love with us.

_Amin._ How!

_Alb._ Do not mistake: in love with our misfortunes,
They will cherish and relieve our men.

_Tib._ Do you shrug now,
And pull up your noses? you smell comfort,
See they stretch out their Legs like Dottrels,
Each like a new Saint _Dennis_.

_Alb._ Dear Mistris,
When you would name me, and the women hear,
Call me your brother, you I'll call my sister,
And pray observe this all--
Why do you change color sweet.

_Amin._ Eating too much meat.

_Alb._ Sawc't with jealousie;
Fie, fie, dear saint, yfaith ye are too blame,
Are ye not here? here fixt in my heart?

_All._ Hark, hark;

_Enter_ Rosella, Clarinda, Crocale, Hipollitta, Juletta.

_Alb._ They are come, stand ready, and look nobly,
And with all humble reverence receive 'em,
Our lives depend upon their gentle pitties,
And death waits on their anger.

_Mor._ Sure they are _Fairies_.

_Tib._ Be they Devils: Devils of flesh and blood;
After so long a _Lent_, and tedious voyage,
To me they are Angels.

_Fran._ O for some _Eringoes_!

_Lam. Potatoes_, or _Cantharides_.

_Tib._ Peace you Rogues, that buy abilities of your 'pothecaries,
Had I but took the diet of green Cheese,
And Onions for a month, I could do wonders.

_Ros._ Are these the Jewels you run mad for?
What can you see in one of these,
To whom you would vouchsafe a gentle touch?
Can nothing perswade you
To love your selves, and place your happiness
In cold and chast embraces of each other.

_Ju._ This is from the purpose.

_Hip._ We had your grant to have them as they were.

_Cla._ 'Tis a beauteous Creature,
And to my self, I do appear deform'd,
When I consider her, and yet she is
The strangers sister; Why then should I fear?
She cannot prove my rival.

_Ros._ When you repent,
That you refus'd my counsel, may it add
To your afflictions, that you were forward;
Yet leap'd into the Gulfe of your misfortunes,
But have your wishes.

_Mast._ Now she makes to us.

_Amin._ I am instructed, but take heed _Albert_,
You prove not false.

_Alb._ Ye are your own assurance,
And so acquainted with your own perfections,
That weak doubts cannot reach you; therefore fear not.

_Ros._ That you are poor and miserable men,
My eyes inform me: that without our succors,
Hope cannot flatter you to dream of safety;
The present plight you are in, can resolve you
That to be merciful, is to draw near
The Heavenly essence: whether you will be
Thankful, I do not question; nor demand
What country bred you, what names, what maners;
To us it is sufficient we relieve
Such as have shapes of men: and I command you,
As we are not ambitious to know
Farther of you, that on pain of death
You presume not to enquire what we are,
Or whence deriv'd.

_Alb._ In all things we obey you,
And thankfully we ever shall confess
Our selves your creatures.

_Ros._ You speak as becomes you;
First then, and willingly, deliver up
Those weapons we could force from you.

_Alb._ We lay 'em down
Most gladly at your feet.

_Tib._ I have had many a combat with a tall wench;
But never was disarm'd before.

_Ros._ And now hear comfort,
Your wants shall be supply'd, and though it be
A debt women may challenge to be sued to,
Especially from such they may command;
We give up to you that power, and therefore
Freely each make his choice.

_Fran._ Then here I fix.

_Mor._ Nay, she is mine: I eyed her first.

_Lam._ This mine.

_Tib._ Stay good rascals;
You are too forward, sir Gallant,
You are not giving order to a Taylor
For the fashion of a new suit;
Nor are you in your warehouse, master Merchant,
Stand back, and give your betters leave: your betters;
And grumble not: if ye do, as I love meat
I will so swinge the salt itch out on you.
Captain, Master, and the rest of us,
That are brothers, and good fellows: we have been
Too late by the ears: and yet smart for our follies;
To end therefore all future emulation: if you please,
To trust to my election, you shall say,
I am not partial to my self; I doubt not
Give content to all.

_All._ Agreed, agreed.

_Tib._ Then but observe, how learned and discreetly,
I will proceed, and as a skilful Doctor
In all the quirks belonging to the game;
Read over your complexions: for you Captain
Being first in place, and therefore first to be serv'd,
I give my judgment thus, for your aspect,
Y'are much inclin'd to melancholy: and that tells me,
The sullen _Saturne_ had predominance
At your nativity, a malignant Planet,
And if not qualified by a sweet conjunction
Of a soft and ruddy wench, born under _Venus_,
It may prove fatal: therefore to your armes,
I give this rose-cheekt Virgin.

_Cla._ To my wish;
Till now I never was happy.

_Amin._ Nor I accurs'd.

_Tib._ Master, you are old;
Yet love the game, that I perceive too,
And if not well spurr'd up, you may prove rusty;
Therefore to help ye here's a _Bradamanta_,
Or I am cosen'd in my calculation.

_Cro._ A poor old man alloted to my share.

_Ti._ Thou wouldst have two;
Nay, I think twenty: but fear not wench,
Though he be old he's tough: look on's making,
Hee'll not fail I warrant thee.

_Ros._ A merry fellow,
And were not man a creature I detest,
I could indure his company.

_Ti._ Here's a fair heard of Does before me,
And now for a barren one:
For, though I like the sport: I do not love
To Father children: like the _Grand Signior_,
Thus I walk in my _Seraglio_,
And view 'em as I pass: then draw I forth
My handkercher, and having made my choice,
I thus bestow it.

_Ros._ On me.

_Ti._ On you: now my choice is made;
To it you hungry Rascals.

_Alb._ Excellent.

_Amin._ As I love goodness,
It makes me smile i'th' height of all my fears.

_Cla._ What a strong contention you may behold
Between my Mothers mirth and anger.

_Tib._ Nay, no coyness: be Mistriss of your word,
I must, and will enjoy you.

_Ros._ Be advis'd fool: alas I am old;
How canst thou hope content from one that's fifty.

_Ti._ Never talk on't;
I have known good ones at threescore and upwards;
Besides the weathers hot: and men
That have experience, fear Fevers:
A temperate diet is the onely Physick,
Your _Julips_, nor _Guajacum prunello_'s,
_Camphire_ pills, nor _Goord-water_,
Come not near your old Woman;
Youthful stomachs are still craving,
Though there be nothing left to stop their mouths with;
And believe me I am no frequent giver of those bounties:
Laugh on: laugh on: good Gentlemen do,
I shall make holiday and sleep, when you
Dig in the mines till your hearts ake.

_Ros._ A mad fellow;
[Well,] Sir, I'll give you hearing: and as I like
Your wooing, and discourse: but I must tell ye Sir,
That rich Widows look for great sums in present,
Or assurances of ample Joynters.

_Ti._ That to me is easie,
For instantly I'll do it, hear me comrades.

_Alb._ What say'st thou _Tibalt_?

_Tib._ Why, that to woo a Wench with empty hands
Is no good Heraldry, therefore let's to the gold,
And share it equally: 'twill speak for us
More than a thousand complements or cringes,
Ditties stolen from _Petrarch_, or Discourse from _Ovid_,
Besides, 'twill beget us respect,
And if ever fortune friend us with a Barque,
Largely supply us with all provision.

_Alb._ Well advis'd, defer it not.

_Ti._ Are ye all contented.

_All._ We are!

_Ti._ Lets away then,
Strait wee'll return, [_Exit._
And you shall see our riches.

_Ros._ Since I knew what wonder and amazement was,
I nee'r was so transported.

_Cla._ Why weep ye gentle Maid?
There is no danger here to such as you;
Banish fear: for with us I dare promise,
You shall meet all courteous entertainment.

_Cro._ We esteem our selves most happy in you.

_Hip._ And bless fortune that brought you hither.

_Cla._ Hark in your ear;
I love you as a friend already,
Ere long you shall call me by a nearer name,
I wish your brother well: I know you apprehend me.

_Amin._ I, to my grief I do;
Alas good Ladies, there is nothing left me,
But thanks, to pay ye with.

_Clar._ That's more,
Than yet you stand ingag'd for.

_Enter_ Albert, Tibalt, _and the rest with treasure_.

_Ros._ So soon return'd!

_Alb._ Here: see the Idol of the Lapidary.

_Ti._ These Pearls, for which the slavish _Negro_
Dives to the bottom of the Sea.

_Lam._ To get which the industrious Merchant
Touches at either pole.

_Fran._ The never-fayling purchase
Of Lordships, and of honors.

_Mor._ The Worlds Mistriss,
That can give every thing to the possessors.

_Ma._ For which the Saylors scorn tempestuous Winds.
And spit defiance in the Sea.

_Ti._ Speak Lady: Look we not lovely now?

_Ros._ Yes, yes, O my Stars,
Be now for ever blest, that have brought
To my revenge these Robbers; take your arrowes,
And nayl these Monsters to the earth.

_Alb._ What mean ye Lady?
In what have we offended?

_Ros._ O my daughter!
And you companions with me in all fortunes,
Look on these Caskets, and these Jewels,
These were our own, when first we put to Sea
With good _Sebastian_: and these the Pyrats
That not alone depriv'd him of this treasure,
But also took his life.

_Cro._ Part of my present
I will remember was mine own.

_Hip._ And these were mine.

_Ju._ Sure, I have worn this Jewel.

_Ros._ Wherefore do ye stay then,
And not perform my command?

_Al._ O Heaven!
What cruel fate pursues us.

_Ti._ I am well enough serv'd,
That must be off'ring Joyntures, Jewels,
And precious stones, more than I brought with me.

_Ros._ Why shoot ye not?

_Cla._ Hear me dear Mother;
And when the greatest cruelty, is Justice,
Do not shew mercy: death to these starv'd wretches
Is a reward, not punishment: let 'em live
To undergoe the full weight of your displeasure.
And that they may have sence to feel the torments
They have deserv'd: allow 'em some small pittance,
To linger out their tortures.

_Ros._ 'Tis well counsell'd.

_All._ And wee'll follow it.

_Alb._ Hear us speak.

_Ros._ Peace dogs.
Bind 'em fast: when fury hath given way to reason,
I will determine of their sufferings,
Which shall be horrid. Vengeance, though slow pac'd,
At length o'rtakes the guilty; and the wrath
Of the incensed powers, will fall most sure
On wicked men, when they are most secure. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Quartus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter_ Raymond, Sebastian, Nicusa, Saylors.

_1 Sayl._ Here's nothing, Sir, but poverty and hunger;
No promise of inhabitance; neither track
of Beast,
Nor foot of Man: we have searcht
All this Rocky desart, yet cannot discover any assurance
Here is, or hath been such men.

_2 Sayl._ Not a relique of any thing they wore;
Nor mark left by 'em, either to find relief,
Or to warn others from the like misfortune.
Believe it, these fellows are both false,
And, to get a little succor in their misery,
Have fram'd this cunning Tale.

_Ray._ The Ship, I know, is _French_, and own'd by Pirats,
If not by _Albert_ my arch enemy.
You told me too there was a woman with 'em.
A young and handsome Woman.

_Sebast._ There was so Sir.

_Raym._ And such, and such young gallants.

_Nic._ We told you true, Sir,
That they had no means to quit this Island.

_Raym._ And that amidst their mutiny to save your lives,
You got their Ship.

_Sebast._ All is most certain, Sir.

_Raym._ Where are they then? Where are these Men
Or Woman? we are landed where your faiths
Did assure us, we could not miss their sights.
For this news we took ye to our mercy,
Reliev'd ye, when the furious Sea, and Famine
Strove, which should first devour ye;
Cloath'd, and cherisht ye; us'd ye as those ye say ye are.
Fair Gentlemen, now keep your words,
And shew us this company, your own free pitties spoke of;
These men ye left in misery; the Woman.
Men of those noble breedings you pretend to
Should scorn to lie, or get their food with falshood;
Come, direct us.

_Sebast._ Alass, Sir, they are gone,
But by what means, or providence, we know not.

_2 Sayl._ Was not the Captain
A fellow of a fiery, yet brave nature,
A middle stature, and of brown complexion?

_Nic._ He was, Sir.

_Raym._ 'Twas _Albert_,
And my poor wretched sister.

_1 Sayl._ 'Twas he certain,
I ha been at Sea with him; many times at Sea.

_Raym._ Come, shew us these Men;
Shew us presently, and do not dally with us.

_Seb._ We left 'em here; What should we say, Sir?
Here, in this place.

_2 Sayl._ The earth cannot swallow 'em;
They have no wings, they cannot fly sure.

_Raym._ You told us too
Of heaps of treasure, and of sums conceal'd,
That set their heart[s] a fire; we see no such thing,
No such sign; What can ye say to purge ye?
What have ye done with these men?

_Nic._ We, Sir?

_Raym._ You Sir;
For certain I believe ye saw such people.

_Sebast._ By all that's good,
By all that's pure and honest,
By all that's holy.

_Raym._ I dare not credit ye,
Ye have so abus'd my hope, that now I hate ye.

_1 Sayl._ Let's put 'em in their ragged clothes again Captain,
For certain they are knaves, lets e'en deliver 'em
To their old fruitful Farm; here let 'em walk the Island.

_Sebast._ If ye do so, we shall curse your mercies.

_Nic._ Rather put us to Sea again.

_Raym._ Not so.
Yet this I'll do, because ye say ye are _Christians_,
Though I hardly credit it: bring in the boat,
And all aboard again, but these two wretches;
Yet leave 'em four dayes meat. If in that time,
(For I will search all nookes of this strange Island)
I can discover any tract of these men,
Alive or dead, I'll bear ye off, and honor ye;
If not, ye have found your Graves; so farewell. [_Exit._

_Nic._ That goodness dwells above, and knows us innocent,
Comfort our lives, and at his pleasure quit us.

_Sebast._ Come Cousin, come; old time will end our story:
But no time (if we end well) ends our glory. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Rosella, Clarinda, Crocale, Hippolita, Juletta.

_Ros._ Use 'em with all the austerity that may be,
They are our slaves; turn all those pitties,
Those tender reluctations that should become your sex,
To stern anger; and when ye look upon 'em,
Look with those eyes that wept those bitter sorrows,
Those cruelties ye suffer'd by their Rapines.
Some five dayes hence that blessed hour comes
Most happy to me, that knit this hand to my dear husbands,
And both our hearts in mutual bands.
That hour Ladies.

_Cla._ What of that hour?

_Ros._ Why, on that hour daughter,
And in the height of all our celebrations,
Our dear remembrances of that dear Man,
And those that suffer'd with him, our fair kinsmen,
Their lives shall fall a sacrifice to vengeance,
Their lives that ruin'd his; 'tis a full justice.
I will look glorious in their bloods;
And the most Noble spirit of _Sebastian_,
That perisht by the pride of these _French_ Pirates,
Shall smile in Heaven, and bless the hand that kill'd 'em.
Look strictly all unto your prisoners;
For he that makes a scape beyond my vengeance,
Or entertains a hope by your fair usage;
Take heed, I say, she that deceives my trust,
Again take heed: her life, and that's but light neither;
Her life in all the tortures my spirit can put on.

_All._ We shall be careful.

_Ros._ Do so. [_Ex. Rossella._

_Cla._ You are angry Mother, and ye are old too,
Forgetting what men are: but we shall temper ye.
How fare your prisoners, Ladies? in what formes
Do they appear in their afflictions?

_Jul._ Mine fare but poorly;
For so I am commanded: 'tis none of their fault.

_Cla._ Of what sort are they?

_Jul._ They say they are Gentlemen.
But they shew Mungrels.

_Cla._ How do they suffer?

_Jul._ Faith like boyes;
They are fearful in all fortunes; when I smile
They kneel, and beg to have that face continued;
And like poor slaves, adore the ground I go on.
When I frown, they hang their most dejected heads,
Like fearful sheephounds; shew 'em a crust of bread
They'll Saint me presently, and skip like Apes
For a sup of Wine. I'll whip 'em like hackneys,
Saddle 'em, ride 'em, do what I will with 'em.

_Cla._ Tush, these are poor things.
Have they names like _Christians_?

_Jul._ Very fair names: _Franvile_, _Lamure_, and _Morillat_;
And brag of great kindreds too. They offer very handsomely,
But that I am a fool, and dare not venture.
They are sound too o'my conscience,
Or very near upon't.

_Cla._ Fy, away fool.

_Jul._ They tell me,
If they might be brought before you,
They would reveale things of strange consequence.

_Cla._ Their base poor fears.

_Jul._ I, that makes me hate 'em too;
For if they were but manly to their sufferance,
Sure I should strain a point or two.

_Cla._ An hour hence I'll take a view of e'm,
And hear their business. Are your Men thus too?

_Cro._ Mine? No, gentle Madam, mine were not cast
In such base molds; afflictions, tortures,
Are names and natures of delight, to my men;
All sorts of cruelties they meet like pleasures.
I have but two; the one they call _Du-pont_,
_Tibalt Du-pont_; the other the Ship-master.

_Cla._ Have they not lives, and fears?

_Cro._ Lives they have Madam;
But those lives never linkt to such companions
As fears or doubts.

_Cla._ Use 'em Nobly;
And where you find fit subjects for your pitties
Let it become ye to be courteous;
My Mother will not alwayes be thus rigorous.

_Hip._ Mine are Saylors Madam,
But they sleep soundly, and seldom trouble me, unless it be when
They dream sometimes of fights and tempests;
Then they rore and whistle for Cans of Wine,
And down they fling me; and in that rage,
(For they are violent fellows) they play such reaks.
If they have meat, they thank me;
If none, they heartily desire to be hang'd quickly.
And this is all they care.

_Cla._ Look to 'em diligently; and where your pitties tells ye
They may deserve, give comfort.

_All._ We will. [_Exit._

_Cla._ Come hither, be not frighted;

_Enter_ Aminta.

Think not ye steal this liberty, for we give it,
Your tender innocence assures me, Virgin,
Ye had no share in those wrongs these men did us;
I find ye are not hardned in such mischiefs.
Your brother was mis-led sure,
Foully mis-led.

_Amin._ How much I fear these pities!

_Cla._ Certain he was, so much I pity him;
And for your sake, whose eyes plead for him;
Nay, for his own sake.

_Amin._ Ha!

_Cla._ For I see about him
Women have subtill eyes, and look narrowly;
Or I am much abus'd: many fair promises;
Nay beyond those, [too] many shadowed virtues.

_Amin._ I think he is good.

_Cla._ I assure my self he will be;
And out of that assurance take this comfort,
For I perceive your fear hath much dejected ye.
I love your brother.

_Amin._ Madam.

_Cla._ Nay, do not take it for a dreamt of favor,
That comforts in the sleep, and awake vanishes;
Indeed I love him.

_Amin._ Do ye indeed?

_Cla._ You doubt still, because ye fear his safety;
Indeed he is the sweetest man I ere saw;
I think the best. Ye may hear without blushes,
And give me thanks, if ye please, for my curtesie.

_Amin._ Madam, I ever must;
Yet witness Heaven, they are hard pull'd from me.
Believe me, Madam, so many imperfections I could find,
(Forgive me Grace for lying) and such wants,
('Tis to an honest use) such poverties,
Both in his main proportion, and his mind too;
There are a hundred handsomer; (I lie leudly)
Your noble usage, Madam, hath so bound me to ye,
That I must tell ye.

_Cla._ Come, tell your worst.

_Amin._ He is no husband for ye.
I think ye mean in that fair way.

_Cla._ Ye have hit it.

_Amin._ I am sure ye have hit my heart.
You will find him dangerous, Madam;
As fickle as the flying ayr, proud, jealous,
Soon glutted in your sweets, and soon forgetful;
I could say more, and tell ye I have a brother,
Another brother, that so far excells this,
Both in the ornaments of Man, and making.

_Cla._ If you were not his sister, I should doubt ye mainly;
Doubt ye for his love, ye deal so cunningly.
Do not abuse me, I have trusted ye with more than life,
With my first love; be careful of me.

_Amin._ In what use, Madam?

_Cla._ In this Lady,
Speak to him for me, you have power upon him;
Tell him I love him, tell him I dote on him:
It will become your tongue.

_Amin._ Become my grave.
O fortune, O cursed fortune!

_Cla._ Tell him his liberty,
And all those with him; all our wealth and Jewels.
Good sister, for I'll call ye so.

_Amin._ I shall Lady,
Even die, I hope.

_Cla._ Here's Meat and Wine, pray take it,
And there he lies; give him what liberty you please;
But still conceal'd. What pleasure you shall please, Sister.
He shall ne'er want again. Nay, see an you'l take it;
Why do you study thus?

_Amin._ To avoid mischiefs, if they should happen.

_Cla._ Goe, and be happy for me.

_Amin._ O blind fortune;
Yet happy thus far, I shall live to see him,
In what strange desolation lives he here now?
Sure this Curtain will reveale.

_Enter_ Albert.

_Alb._ Who's that? ha!
Some gentle hand, I hope, to bring me comfort.
Or if it be my death, 'tis sweetly shadowed.

_Amin._ Have ye forgot me, Sir?

_Alb._ My _Aminta_?

_Amin._ She Sir,
That walks here up and down an empty shadow,
One, that for some few hours
But wanders here, carrying her own sad Coffin,
Seeking some Desart place to lodge her griefs in.

_Alb._ Sweet sorrow welcome, welcome noble grief;
How got you this fair liberty to see me?
For sorrows in your shape are strangers to me.

_Amin._ I come to counsel ye.

_Alb._ Ye are still more welcome;
For good friends in afflictions give good Councels.
Pray then proceed.

_Amin._ Pray eat first, ye shew faint;
Here's Wine to refresh ye too.

_Alb._ I thank ye dear.

_Amin._ Drink again.

_Alb._ Here's to our loves.
How, turn and weep!
Pray pledge it: this happiness we have yet left,
Our hearts are free. Not pledge it? Why?
And though beneath the Axe this health were holy,
Why do ye weep thus?

_Amin._ I come to woo ye.

_Alb._ To woo me Sweet? I am woo'd and won already,
You know I am yours. This pretty way becomes ye.
But you would deceive my sorrows; that's your intent.

_Amin._ I would I could, I should not weep, but smile.
Do ye like your Meat and Wine?

_Alb._ Like it?

_Amin._ Do you like your liberty?

_Alb._ All these I well may like.

_Amin._ Then pray like her that sent 'em.
Do ye like wealth, and most unequal'd beauty?

_Alb._ Peace, indeed you'l make me angry.

_Amin._ Would I were dead that ask it,
Then ye might freely like, and I forgive ye.

_Alb._ What like, and who? add not more misery
To a man that's fruitful in afflictions.
Who is't you would have me like?
Who sent these comforts?

_Amin._ I must tell.

_Alb._ Be bold.

_Amin._ But be you temperate.
If you be bold I die. The young fair Virgin;
(Sorrow hath made me old.) O hearken,
And wisely hark, the Governess daughter:
That Star that strikes this Island full of wonder,
That blooming sweetness.

_Alb._ What of her?

_Amin._ She sent it: and with it,
It must be out, she dotes on ye,
And must enjoy ye: else no joy must find ye.

_Alb._ And have you the patience to deliver this?

_Amin._ A sister may say much, and modestly.

_Alb._ A sister?

_Amin._ Yes, that name undid ye;
Undid us both: had ye nam'd Wife, she had fear'd ye;
And fear'd the sin she follow'd; She had shun'd, yea
Her Virgin modesty had not touch'd at ye.
But thinking you were free, hath kindled a fire,
I fear will hardly be extinguisht.

_Alb._ Indeed I played the fool.

_Amin._ O my best Sir, take heed,
Take heed of lies. Truth, though it trouble some minds,
Some wicked minds, that are both dark and dangerous:
Yet it preserves it self, comes off pure, innocent,
And like the Sun, though never so eclips'd,
Must break in glory. O Sir, lie no more.

_Alb._ Ye have read me a fair Lecture,
And put a spell upon my tongue for fayning.
But how will you counsel now?

_Amin._ Ye must study to forget me.

_Alb._ How?

_Amin._ Be patient.
Be wise and patient, it conce[r]ns ye highly.
Can ye lay by our loves? But why should I doubt it?
Ye are a man, and man may shift affections,
'Tis held no sin. To come to the point,
Ye must lose me; many and mighty reasons.

_Alb._ Hear me _Aminta_,
Have you a man that loves you too, that feeds ye,
That sends ye liberty? Has this great Governess
A noble son too, young, and apt to catch ye?
Am I, because I am in bonds, and miserable,
My health decay'd, my youth and strength half blasted,
My fortune like my waining self, for this despis'd?
Am I for this forsaken? a new love chosen,
And my affections, like my fortunes, wanderers?
Take heed of lying, you that chid me for it;
And shew'd how deep a sin it was, and dangerous.
Take heed, your self, you swore you lov'd me dearly;
No few, nor little oathes you swore _Aminta_,
Those seal'd with no small faith, I then assur'd my self.
O seek no new wayes to cozen truth.

_Amin._ I do not.
By love it self I love thee,
And ever must, nor can all deaths dissolve it.

_Alb._ Why do you urge me thus then?

_Amin._ For your safety,
To preserve your life.

_Alb._ My life, I do confess, is hers,
She gives it,
And let her take it back, I yield it.
My loves intirely thine, none shall touch at it;
None, my _Aminta_, none.

_Amin._ Ye have made me happy,
And now I know ye are mine. Fortune, I scorn thee.
Goe to your rest, and I'll sit by ye;
Whilst I have time I'll be your mate, and comfort ye,
For only I am trusted: you shall want nothing,
Not a liberty that I can steal ye.

_Alb._ May we not celebrate our loves _Aminta_?
And where our wishes cannot meet.

_Amin._ You are wanton,
But with cold kisses I'll allay that fever;
Look for no more, and that in private too.
Believe me, I shall blush else.
But, let's consider, we are both lost else.

_Alb._ Let's in, and prevent fate. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Crocale, Juletta, Tibalt, Master.

_Tib._ You do well to ayr us, Ladies, we shall be musty else.
What are your wise wills now?

_Cro._ You are very crank still.

_Tib._ As crank as a holy Fryer, fed with hail-stones.
But do ye bring us out to bait, like Bulls?

_Mast._ Or are you weary of the charge ye are at?
Turn us abroad again, let's jog Ladies;
We are gross, and course, unfit for your sweet pleasures.

_Tib._ Knock off our shooes, and turn's to grass.

_Cro._ You are determined
Still to be stubborn then: it well becomes ye.

_Tib._ An humour Lady that contents a prisoner.
A sullen fit sometimes serves for a second course.

_Jul._ Ye may as well be kind,
And gain our favours; gain meat and drink,
And lodging to rest your bones.

_Tib._ My bones have bore me thus long,
And had their share of pains and recreations;
If they fail now, they are no fair companions.

_Cro._ Are ye thus harsh to all our Sex?

_Mast._ We cannot be merry without a Fidler,
Pray strike up your Tabors, Ladies.

_Cro._ The fools despise us.

_Jul._ We know ye are very hungry now.

_Tib._ Yes 'tis very wholsom, Ladies;
For we that have gross bodies, must be careful
Have ye no piercing air to stir our stomachs?
We are beholding to ye for our Ordinary.

_Jul._ Why slaves, 'tis in our power to hang ye.

_Mast._ Very likely.
'Tis in our powers then to be hang'd, and scorn ye.
Hanging's as sweet to us, as dreaming to you.

_Cro._ Come, be more courteous.

_Jul._ Do, and then ye shall be pleas'd, and have all necessaries.

_Tib._ Give me some Ratsbane then.

_Cro._ And why Ratsbane, Mounsieur?

_Tib._ We live like vermine here, and eat up your cheese,
Your mouldy cheese, that none but Rats would bite at;
Therefore 'tis just that Ratsbane should reward us.
We are unprofitable, and our Ploughs are broken;
There is no hope of Harvest this year, Ladies.

_Jul._ Ye shall have all content.

_Mast._ I, and we'll serve your uses.
I had rather serve hogs, there's more delight in't;
Your greedy appetites are never satisfied;
Just like hungry Camels, sleeping or waking
You chew the cud still.

_Cro._ By this hand we'll starve ye.

_Mast._ 'Tis a noble courtesie.
I had as lief ye should famish me, as founder me:
To be jaded to death, is only fit for a hackney.
Here be certain Tarts of Tarr about me,
And parcels of potargo in my Jerkin,
As long as these last.

_Jul._ Which will not last ever.

_Tib._ Then we'll eat one another like good fellows.
A shoulder of his for a haunch of mine.

_Jul._ 'Tis excellent.

_Tib._ 'Twill be as we'll dress it Ladies.

_Cro._ Why sure ye are not men?

_Mast._ Ye had best come search us,
A Seaman is seldom without a salt Eele.

_Tib._ I am bad enough,
And in my nature a notorious wencher;
And yet ye make me blush at your immodesty.
Tell me good Master, didst ever see such things?

_Mast._ I could like 'em, though they were lewdly given,
If they could say no; [but fie on 'em,
They gape like Oysters.]

_Tib._ Well, ye may hang, or starve us;
But your commanding impudence shall never fear us.
Had ye by blushing signs, soft cunings, crept into us,
And shew'd us your necessities: we had met your purposes,
Supply'd your wants. We are no Saints Ladies;
I love a good wench, as I love my life,
And with my life I will maintain my love:
But such a sordid impudence I'll spit at.
Let's to our dens again. Come noble Master.
You know our minds, Ladies:
This is the faith in which we'll die. [_Exit_ Tib. _and Mast_.

_Cro._ I do admire 'em.

_Jul._ They are noble fellows,
And they shall not want, for this.

_Cro._ But see, _Clarinda_ comes.
Farewel, I'll to my charge.

_Enter_ Clarinda.

_Cla._ Bring out those prisoners now,
And let me see 'em, and hear their business.

_Jul._ I will, Madam. [_Exit._

_Cla._ I hope she hath prevail'd upon her brother.
She has a sweet tongue, and can describe the happiness
My love is ready to fling on him.
And sure he must be glad, [and certain] wonder,
And bless the hour that brought him to this Island.
I long to hear the full joy that he labours with.

_Enter_ Juletta, Morillat, Franvile, Lamure.

_Mor._ Bless thy Divine Beauty.

_Fran._ Mirror of sweetness.

_Lam._ Ever-springing brightness.

_Cla._ Nay, Stand up Gentlemen, and leave your flatteries.

_Mor._ She calls us Gentlemen, sure we shall have some meat now.

_Cla._ I am a mortal creature,
Worship Heaven, and give these attributes
To their Divinities. Methinks ye look but thin.

_Mor._ Oh we are starv'd, immortal beauty.

_Lam._ We are all poor starv'd knaves.

_Fran._ Neither liberty nor meat, Lady.

_Mor._ We were handsome men, and Gentlemen, and sweet men,
And were once gracious in the eyes of beauties,
But now we look like Rogues;
Like poor starv'd rogues.

_Cla._ What would ye do if ye were to die now?

_Fran._ Alas, we were prepar'd. If you will hang us,
Let's have a good meal or two to die with,
To put's in heart.

_Mor._ Or if you'll drown us,
Let's be drunk first, that we may die merrily,
And bless the founders.

_Cla._ Ye shall not die so hastily.
What dare ye do to deserve my favour?

_Lam._ Put us to any service.

_Fran._ Any bondage,
Let's but live.

_Mar._ We'll get a world of children,
For we know ye are hainously unprovided that way;
And ye shall beat us when we offend ye;
Beat us abundantly, and take our meat from us.

_Cla._ These are weak abject things, that shew ye poor ones.
What's the great service ye so oft have threatned,
If ye might see me, and win my favour?

_Jul._ That business of discovery.

_Mor._ Oh, I'll tell ye Lady.

_Lam._ And so will I.

_Fran._ And I,
Pray let me speak first.

_Mor._ Good, no confusion.
We are before a Lady that knows manners;
And by the next meat I shall eat, 'tis certain,
This little Gentlewoman that was taken with us.

_Cla._ Your Captains Sister, she you mean.

_Mor._ I, I, she's the business that we would open to ye.
You are cousened in her.

_Lam._ { How, what is't you would open?
_Fran._ { She is no Sister.

_Mor._ Good Sirs how quick you are.
She is no Sister, Madam.

_Fran._ She is his.

_Mor._ Peace I say.

_Cla._ What is she?

_Mor._ Faith, sweet Lady,
She is, as a man would say, his.

_Cla._ What?

_Lam._ His Mistriss.

_Mor._ Or, as some new Translators read, his.

_Cla._ Oh me!

_Mor._ And why he should delude you thus,
Unless he meant some villany? these ten weeks
He has had her at Sea, for his own proper appetite.

_Lam._ His Cabin-mate I'll assure ye.

_Cla._ No Sister, say ye?

_Mor._ No more than I am brother to your beauty.
I know not why he should juggle thus.

_Cla._ Do not lie to me.

_Mor._ If ye find me lie, Lady, hang me empty.

_Cla._ How am I fool'd!
Away with 'em _Juletta_, and feed 'em
But hark ye, with such food as they have given me.
New misery!

_Fran._ Nor meat nor thanks for all this. [_Exit._

_Cla._ Make 'em more wretched.
Oh I could burst! curse and kill now,
Kill any thing I meet, _Juletta_, follow me,
And call the rest along.

_Jul._ We follow, Madam. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Albert _and_ Aminta.

_Amint._ I must be gone now, else she may suspect me;
How shall I answer her?

_Alb._ Tell her directly.

_Amint._ That were too suddain, too improvident;
Fires of this nature must be put out cunningly,
They'll waste all come near 'em else.
Farewel once more.

_Alb._ Farewel,
And keep my love entire.
Nay, kiss me once again, me thinks we should not part.

_Amint._ Oh be wise, Sir.

_Alb._ Nay, one kiss more.

_Amin._ Indeed you're wanton;
We may be taken too.

_Enter_ Clarinda, Juletta, Crocale, Hippolita.

_Cla._ Out thou base woman.
[By Heaven] I'll shoot 'em both.

_Cro._ Nay stay, brave Lady, hold;
A suddain death cuts off a Nobler vengeance.

_Cla._ Am I made Bawd to your lascivious meetings?
Are ye grown so wise in sin?
Shut up that villa[ine]: and sirrah,
Now expect my utmost anger.
Let him there starve.

_Alb._ I mock at your mischiefs. [_Exit._

_Cla._ Tie that false witch unto that Tree,
There let that savage beasts
Gnaw off her sweetness, and Snakes
Embrace her beauties; tie her, and watch
That none relieve her.

_Hip._ We could wish ye better fortune, Lady,
But dare not help ye.

_Amin._ Be your own friends, I thank ye.
Now only my last audit, and my greatest,
Oh Heaven, be kind unto me,
And if it be thy Will, preserve.

_Enter_ Raymond.

_Ray._ Who is this?
Sure 'tis a woman, I have trode this place,
And found much footing; now I know 'tis peopl'd.
Ha, let me see! 'tis her face.
Oh Heaven! turn this way Maid.

_Amin._ Oh _Raymond_, oh Brother.

_Raym._ Her tongue too: 'tis my Sister; what rude hand!
Nay kiss me first, Oh joy!

_Amin._ Fly, fly dear brother,
You are lost else.

_Jul._ A man, a man, a new man.

_Raym._ What are these?

_Enter_ Juletta, Crocale, Clarinda.

_Cro._ An enemy, an enemy.

_Cla._ Dispatch him,
Take him off, shoot him straight.

_Raym._ I dare not use my sword, Ladies,
Against such comely foes.

_Amin._ Oh brother, brother!

_Cla._ Away with 'em, and in dark prisons bind 'em.
One word reply'd, ye die both.
Now brave mother, follow thy noble anger,
And I'll help thee. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Quintus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter_ Rossella, Clarinda, Crocale, Juletta, Hippolita.

_Ros._ I am deaf to all your intreaties: she that moves me
For pity or compassion to these Pirats,
Digs up her Fathers, or her Brothers Tomb,
And spurns about their ashes.
Couldst thou remember what a Father thou hadst once,
'Twould steel thy heart against all foolish pity.
By his memory, and the remembrance of his dear embraces,
I am taught, that in a Noble cause revenge is Noble;
And they shall fall the sacrifices to appease
His wandring Ghost, and my incensed fury.

_Cla._ The new come prisoner too!

_Ros._ He too[. Y]et that we may learn
Whether they are the same, or near ally'd
To those that forc'd me to this cruel course,
Better their poor allowance, and permit 'em
To meet together and confer,
Within the distance of your ear; perhaps
They may discover something that may kill
Despair in me, and be a means to save 'em
From certain ruine.

_C[r]o._ That shall be my charge.

_Ros._ Yet to prevent
All hope of rescue: for this new-come Captain
Hath both a Ship and Men not far [off] from us,
Though ignorant to find the only Port,
That can yield entrance to our happy Island,
Guard the place strongly, and e'r the next Sun
Ends his diurnal progress, I will be
Happy in my revenge, or set 'em free. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Crocale, Juletta, Hippolita. [_A Table furnish'd._

_Cro._ So serve it plentifully,
And lose not time to enquire the cause;
There is a main design that hangs upon this bounty.
See the Table furnisht with Wine too,
That discovers secrets which tortures cannot open:
Open the doors too of the several prisons,
And give all free entrance into this room.
Undiscover'd I can here mark all.

_Enter_ Tib. Mast.

Here's Captain careless, and the tough Ship-master,
The slaves are nos'd like Vultures
How wild they look.

_Tib._ Ha, the mistery of this,
Some good Hobgoblin rise and reveal.

_Mast._ I'm amazed at it: nor can I sound the intent.

_Tib._ Is not this bread,
Substantial bread, not painted?

_Mast._ But take heed,
You may be poisoned.

_Tib._ I am sure I am famish'd;
And famine, as the wise man says,
Gripes the guts as much as any Mineral.
This may be _Treacle_ sent to preserve me
After a long Fast: or be it _Vipers_ spittle,
I'll run the hazard.

_Mast._ We are past all fear, I'll take part with ye.

_Tib._ Do: and now i'faith, how d'ye feel your self?
I find great ease in't. What's here;
Wine, and it be thy Will;
Strong lusty Wine. Well, fools may talk
Of _Mythridate_, Cordials, and _Elixirs_.
But from my youth this was my only Physick.
Here's a colour, what Ladies cheek,
Though cerus'd over, comes near it?
It sparkles too: hangs out Diamonds.
Oh my sweet-heart, how I will hug thee,
Again, and again! They are poor drunkards,
And not worth thy favors,
That number thy moist kisses in these Crystals.

_Mast._ But Mounsieur,
Here are Suckets, and sweet dishes.

_Tib._ Tush, boys meat,
I am past it; here's strong food fit for men:
Nectar, old lad. Mistriss of merry hearts,
Once more I am bold with you.

_Mast._ Take heed (man)
Too much will breed distemper.

_Tib._ Hast thou liv'd at Sea
The most part of thy life, where to be sober
While we have Wine aboard, is capital Treason;
And dost thou preach sobriety?

_Mast._ Prethee forbear,
We may offend in it; we know not for whom
It was provided.

_Tib._ I am sure for me: therefore _footra_,
When I am full, let 'em hang me, I care not.

_Enter_ Albert, Aminta, Raymond, Lamure, Morrillat,
Franvile, _severally_.

_Mast._ This has been his temper ever.
See, provoking dishes; candid _Eringoes_,
And _Potatoes_.

_Tib._ I'll not touch 'em, I will drink;
But not a bit on a march, I'll be an Eunuch rather.

_Mast._ Who are these?

_Tib._ Marry, who you will;
I keep my Text here.

_Alb. Raymond!_

_Ray. Albert!_

_Tib._ Away, I'll be drunk alone;
Keep off Rogues, or I'll belch ye into air;
Not a drop here.

_Amint._ Dear brother, put not in your eyes such anger;
Those looks poison'd with fury, shot at him,
Reflect on me. Oh brother, look milder, or
The Crystal of his temperance
Will turn 'em on your self.

_Alb._ Sir, I have sought ye long
To find your pardon: you have plough'd the Ocean
To wreak your vengeance on me, for the rape
Of this fair Virgin. Now our fortune guides us
To meet on such hard terms, that we need rather
A mutual pitty of our present state,
Than to expostulate of breaches past,
Which cannot be made up. And though it be
Far from you[r] power, to force me to confess,
That I have done ye wrong, or such submission
Failing to make my peace, to vent your anger;
You being your self slav'd, as I to others:
Yet for you[r] Sisters sake, her blessed sake,
In part of recompence of what she has suffer'd
For my rash folly; the contagion
Of my black actions, catching hold upon
Her purer innocence, I crave your mercy;
And wish however several motives kept us
From being friends, while we had hope to live,
Let death which we expect, and cannot fly from,
End all contention.

_Tib._ Drink upon't, 'tis a good motion;
Ratifie it in Wine, and 'tis authentical.

_Ray._ When I consider
The ground of our long difference, and look on
Our not to be avoided miseries,
It doth beget in me I know not how
A soft Religious tenderness; which tells me,
Though we have many faults to answer for
Upon our own account, our Fathers crimes
Are in us punish'd. Oh _Albert_, the course
They took to leave us rich, was not honest,
Nor can that friendship last, which virtue joyns not.
When first they forc'd the industrious _Portugals_,
From their Plantations in the _Happy Islands_.

_Cro._ This is that I watch for.

_Ray._ And did omit no tyranny, which men,
Inured to spoil, and mischief could inflict,
On the grie[v]'d sufferers; when by lawless rapine
They reap'd the harvest, which their Labou[rs] sow'd;
And not content to force 'em from their dwelling,
But laid for 'em at Sea to ravish from 'em
The last remainder of their wealth: then, then,
After a long pursuit, each doubting other,
As guilty of the _Portugals_ escape,
They did begin to quarrel, like [ill] men;
(Forgive me piety, that I call 'em so)
No longer love, or correspondence holds,
Than it is cimented with prey or profit:
Then did they turn these swords they oft had bloodi'd
With innocent gore, upon their wretched selves,
And paid the forfeit of their cruelty
Shewn to _Sebastian_, and his Colonie,
By being fatal enemies to each other.
Thence grew _Amintas_ rape, and my desire
To be reveng'd. And now observe the issue:
As they for spoil ever forgot compassion
To women, (who should be exempted
From the extremities of a lawful War)
We now, young able men, are fall'n into
The hands of Women; that, against the soft
Tenderness familiar to their Sex,
Will shew no mercy.

_Enter_ Crocale.

_Cro._ None, unless you shew us
Our long lost Husbands.
We are those _Portugals_ you talk'd of.

_Ray._ Stay,
I met upon the Sea in a tall Ship
Two _Portugals_, famish'd almost to death.

_Tib._ Our Ship by this Wine.
And those the rogues that stole her,
Left us to famish in the barren Islands.

_Ray._ Some such tale they told me,
And something of a Woman, which I find,
To be my Sister.

_Cro._ Where are these men?

_Ray._ I left 'em,
Supposing they had deluded me with forg'd tales,
In the Island, where they said
They had liv'd many years the wretched owners
Of a huge mass of treasure.

_Alb._ The same men: and that the fatal muck
We quarrell'd for.

_Cro._ They were _Portugals_ you say.

_Ray._ So they profess'd.

_Cro._ They may prove such men as may save your lives,
And so much I am taken with fair hope,
That I will hazard life to be resolv'd on't:
How came you hither?

_Ray._ My ship lies by the Rivers mouth,
That can convey ye to these wretched men,
Which you desire to see.

_Cro._ Back to your prisons,
And pray for the success: if they be those
Which I desire to find, you are safe;
If not, prepare to die to morrow:
For the world cannot redeem ye.

_Alb._ However, we are arm'd
For either fortune. [_Exit._

_Tib._ What must become of me now
That I am not dismiss'd?

_Cro._ Oh Sir, I purpose
To have your company.

_Ti._ Take heed wicked woman,
I am apt to mischief now.

_Cro._ You cannot be so unkind,
To her that gives you liberty.

_Ti._ No, I shall be too kind, that's the devil on't;
I have had store of good wine: and when I am drunk,
_Joan_ is a Lady to me, and I shall
Lay about me like a Lord: I feel strange motions:
Avoid me temptation.

_Cro._ Come Sir, I'll help ye in. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Sebastian _and_ Nicusa.

_Nicu._ What may that be
That moves upon the Lake?

_Sebast._ Still it draws nearer,
And now I plainly can discern it.
'Tis the _French_ Ship.

_Nicu._ In it a woman,
Who seems to invite us to her.

_Sebast._ Still she calls with signs of Love to hasten to her;
So lovely hope doth still appear:
I feel nor age, nor weakness.

_Nicu._ Though it bring death,
To us 'tis comfort: and deserves a meeting.
Or else fortune tyr'd with what we have suffer'd,
And in it overcome, as it may be,
Now sets a period to our misery. [_Exeunt._ [_Horid Musick._

_Enter severally_, Raymond, Albert, Aminta.

_Ray._ What dreadful sounds are these?

_Amint._ Infernal Musick,
Fit for a bloody Feast.

_Alb._ It seems prepar'd
To kill our courages e'r they divorce
Our souls and bodies.

_Ray._ But they that fearless fall,
Deprive them of their triumph.

[_An Altar prepar'd._

_Enter_ Rossillia, Clarinda, Juletta, Hippolita, &c.

_Amin._ See the furies,
In their full trym of cruelty.

_Ros._ 'Tis the last
Duty that I can pay to my dead Lord,
Set out the Altar, I my self will be
The Priest, and boldly do those horrid Rites
You shake to think on, lead these Captains nearer,
For they shall have the honor to fall first
To my _Sebastian_'s ashes: and now wretches,
As I am taught already, that you are,
And lately by your free confession,
_French_ Pirats, and the sons of those I hate,
Even equal with the devil; hear with horror,
What 'tis invites me to this cruel course,
And what you are to suffer, no _Amazons_ we,
But women of _Portugal_ that must have from you
_Sebastian_ and _Nicusa_; we are they
That groan'd beneath your fathers wrongs:
We are those wretched women,
Their injuries pursu'd, and overtook;
And from the sad remembrance of our losses
We are taught to be cruel; when we were forc'd
From that sweet air we breathed in, by their rapine,
And sought a place of being; as the Seas
And Winds conspir'd with their ill purposes,
To load us with afflictions in a storm
That fell upon us; the two ships that brought us,
To seek new fortunes in an unknown world
Were severed: the one bore all the able men,
Our Treasure and our Jewels: in the other,
We Women were embarqu'd: and fell upon,
After long tossing in the troubled main,
This pleasant Island: but in few months,
The men that did conduct us hither, died,
We long before had given our Husbands lost:
Remembring what we had suff'red by the _French_
We took a solemn Oath, never to admit
The curs'd society of men: necessity
Taught us those Arts, not usual to our Sex,
And the fertile Earth yielding abundance to us,
We did resolve, thus shap'd like _Amazons_
To end our lives; but when you arriv'd here,
And brought as presents to us, our own Jewels;
Those which were boorn in the other Ship,
How can ye hope to scape our vengeance?

_Amint._ It boots not then to swear our innocence?

_Alb._ Or that we never forc'd it from the owners?

_Ray._ Or that there are a remnant of that wrack,
And not far off?

_Ros._ All you affirm, I know,
Is but to win time; therefore prepare your throats,
The world shall not redeem ye: and that your cries
May find no entrance to our ears,
To move pity in any: bid loud Musick sound
Their fatal knells; if ye have prayers use 'em quickly,
To any power will own ye; but ha!

_Enter_ Crocale, Sebastian, Nicusa, Tibalt.

Who are these? what spectacles of misfortune?
Why are their looks
So full of Joy and Wonder?

_Cro._ Oh! lay by
These instruments of death, and welcome
To your arms, what you durst never hope to imbrace:
This is _Sebastian_, this _Nicusa_, Madam:
Preserv'd by miracle: look up dear _Sir_,
And know your own _Rossella_: be not lost
In wonder and amazement; or if nature
Can by instinct, instruct you what it is,
To be blessed with the name of Father,
Freely enjoy it in this fair Virgin.

_Seb._ Though my miseries,
And many years of wants I have endur'd,
May well deprive me of the memory
Of all joys past; yet looking on this building,
This ruin'd building of a heavenly form
In my _Rosilla_; I must remember, I am _Sebastian_.

_Ros._ Oh my joyes!

_Seb._ And here,
I see a perfect model of thy self,
As thou wert when thy choice first made thee mine:
These cheeks and fronts, though wrinkled now with time
Which Art cannot restore: had equal pureness,
Of natural white and red, and as much ravishing:
Which by fair order and succession,
I see descend on her: and may thy virtues
Wind into her form, and make her a perfect dower:
No part of thy sweet goodness wanting to her.
I will not now _Rosilla_, ask thy fortunes,
Nor trouble thee with hearing mine;
Those shall hereafter serve to make glad hours
In their relation: All past wrongs forgot;
I'm glad to see you Gentlemen; but most,
That [it] is in my power to save your lives;
You say'd ours, when we were near starv'd at Sea,
And I despair not, for if she be mine,
_Rosilla_ can deny _Sebastian_ nothing.