_Hub_. They shall not make bonefires of their owne glories and set up for me a poore waxe candle to shew mine. I am full of Gold now: what shall I doe with it, _Damianus_? _Dam_. What doe Marriners after boone voyages, but let all flye; and what Souldiers, when warres are done, but fatten peace? _Hub_. Pox of Peace! she has churles enough to fatten her. I'll make a Shamoyes Doublet, embroydered all over with flowers of gold. In these dayes a woman will not looke upon a man if he be not brave. Over my Doublet a _Soldado_ Cassacke of Scarlet, larded thicke with Gold Lace; Hose of the same, cloake of the same, too, lasht up this high and richly lined. There was a Lady, before I went, was working with her needle a Scarffe for mee; but the Wagtaile has left her nest. _Dam_. No matter; there's enough such birds everywhere. _Hub_. Yes, women are as common as glasses in Tavernes, and often drunke in and more often crackt. I shall grow lazy if I fight not; I would faine play with halfe a dozen Fencers, but it should be at sharpe.[140] _Dam_. And they are all for foyles. _Hub_. Foyl'd let 'em be then. _Dam_. You have had fencing enough in the field, and for women the Christians fill'd[141] your markets. _Hub_. Yes, and those markets were our Shambles. Flesh enough! It made me weary of it. Since I came home I have beene wondrous troubled in my sleepes, And often heard to sigh in dead of night As if my heart would cracke. You talk of Christians: Ile tell you a strange thing, a kind of melting in My soule, as 'twere before some heavenly fire, When in their deaths (whom they themselves call Martyrs) It was all rocky. Nothing, they say, can soften A Diamond but Goates blood;[142] they perhaps were Lambs In whose blood I was softened. _Dam_. Pray tell how. _Hub_. I will: after some three hours being in _Carthage_ I rusht into a Temple. Starr'd all with lights; Which with my drawne sword rifling, in a roome Hung full of Pictures, drawne so full of sweetnesse They struck a reverence in me, found I a woman, A Lady all in white; the very Candles Took brightnesse from her eyes and those cleare Pearles Which in aboundance falling on her cheekes Gave them a lovely bravery. At my rough entrance She shriek'd and kneel'd, and holding up a paire Of Ivory fingers begg't that I would not (Though I did kill) dishonour her, and told me She would pray for me. Never did Christian So near come to my heart-strings; I let my Sword Fall from me, stood astonish't, and not onely Sav'd her my selfe but guarded her from others. _Dam_. Done like a Souldier.