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Am I Henrico? there is not any place Can promise such security as this To Eleonora. Doe not talke of dying, Our best dayes are to come: putt on thy quiet, And be above the reach of a misfortune. Ile presently wayte on thee, by this kisse. Buz. Would I might keepe your oath: so please you, lady, Buzzano will sweare too. Hen. What? Buz. That you'le be there and here agen presently. Hen.
Gyr. Heard you this, sirra? Buz. As sure as I heare you now. Alq. And you'le be sworne 'twas he that so cryde out? Buz. If I were going to be hangd Ide sweare. Clark. Mac. All this is but presumption: if this be all The shott you make against him your bullets stick In a mud wall, or if they meete resistance They backe rebound & fly in your owne face. Med.
If with Mimique Gestures you'le keep you from sadnes, Then drinke lusty Clarett twill put you in Madnes; And then to settle you no hopes in Beer But wholesome Potts of Scotch ale though its deere. Cap. But looke you, Child, you say the Divells white in your Song. You have beene ill catechiz'd, Boy, for a White Divell is but a poeticall fiction ; for the Divell, God bless us, Child, is blacke.
If you instruct a nearer way, 'tis in Your will to save your eare the trouble of My pleading, Madam, if with one soft breath You say I'me entertain'd; but for one smile That speakes consent you'le make my life your servant. Lady. My husband, Sir Sir Fr. Deserves not such a treasure to himselfe And starve a noble servant. Lady. Sir Fr.
I meane to take one draught of dying comfort. Cat. I hope you'le not deny my company To waite on you to Sherris? Jo. No, you shall goe to see your frend there totter. Pike. I have a suite, my Lord; to see an Englishman, A merchant, prisoner here, before I goe. Fer. Call him; that done, you know your charge. Ten. And shall performe it. Fer., John, Catalina. Enter Jaylor & Woodrow. Pike. Oh, Mr.
But by your leave we will part your embraces: so disarme, disarme. Jo. I thanke you, Countrymen; I hope you'le trust my honour with my armes. Yes, take them signior; but you will yeild the Englishman our prisoner? Jo. A villaines mark, indeed! wound a disarmed souldier! Jo.
All your apples I know are ripe allready; 'tis not stealth, I shall rob nobody. Ele. You'le not be a divell? Hen. No, I will but play the man with you: why, you know 'tis nothing. Ele. Will you enforce mine honour? oh, Henrico, Where have you left your goodnesse? sure you cannot Be so ignoble, if you thinke me worthy To be your wife at least, to turne Eleonora Into a whore. Hen.
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