_Buz_. Their enemyes as we may be in their power! I had rather be cramm'd into a cannon and shott against their ships then you should prove a witch & tell true now. The _Tartar_ is not halfe so grim; not a _Turke_ would use us so like _Jewes_ as they will. If it come to that once that they take the Towne You will see _Spanish_ Dons heads cryed up and downe: as they doe our Orenges and Lymons; and the woemens heads shall off, too,--not a maydenhead of gold shall scape 'em. _Ele_. It is no valour to use Tyranny Upon the conquerd: they have been reported A noble nation; and when last the pride Of this Citty adornd their victory, by command Or their brave Generall, no outrage ever The soldiers durst committ upon our persons: Though all our wealth ran in full streames upon them Our honours were preserved, or fame belys them. _Buz_. No matter what fame sayes, perhaps I know more than she does; & yet, now you talk of valour, they are not comparable to us. _Ele_. How? _Buz_. Why, valour is but the courage of a man; courage is, as they say, the spirit of a man; and the spirit of a man is the greatnes, as we call it, of his stomake. Now 'tis well knowen to the whole world they feed better and eate more then we: ergo, we have better stomackes then they. But, see! we have talk't our selves at home already, and the point (port?) is open. Will't please you enter, or shall I enter before you? I am your man, madam. _Ele_. You know the way best:--whilst abroad they are At fight, twixt hope and feare at home I warre. [_Exeunt_. _Actus Secundus_. (SCENE 1.) _Alarum; as the soft musicke begins a peale of ordnance goes off; then Cornetts sound a Battaile; which ended enter Captaine, Master of a ship, Dick Pike, with musketts_. _Cap_. Fought bravely, countrymen! Honour all this while Sate in a Throne of smoake with sparckling eyes Looking upon your courages & admiring Your resolutions, and now rewards your sweat With victory. The castle groanes at heart; Her strongest ribbs are bruizd with battering Cannons, And she hath tane into her bowells fire Enough to melt her. _Ma_. My Lord came bravely up to her & shewd a spirit That commands danger; his honorable example Gave us new hearts. _Sol_. Faith, give the _Spanyards_ their due; they entertaind us handsomely with hott meat; 'twas no cold welcome. _Pike_. But I would not willingly swallow their plums; they would rise shrewdly in a man's stomacke. _Cap_. At the first shott, when the _Convertine_ came in, 3 men were killd. _Ma_. At the second 4, was't not? _Cap_. At the third two more: one salutation Came so close that, with the very wind, My hands have almost lost the sense of feeling. _Jewell_, thou mad'st thy muskett spitt fire bravely. _Ma_. And my _Devonshire_ blade, honest _Dick Pike_, Spard not his Sugar pellets among my _Spanyards_.