_Pike_. What an arrogant rascall's this!--Sir, I thought my thankes herein had chiefly appertaind to the humanity of the Governour, & that your especiall care had bene in providing these necessary shackles to keepe me from running into further danger: these I tooke to be the strong bonds of your frendship. _Jay_. Sir, I hope they fitt you as well as if they had bene made for you. Oh, I am so much your servant that I doe wish 'em stronger for your sake. _Pike_. 'Tis overwell as it is, sir. _Jay_. You are most curteous. [_Exit_. _Pike_. A precious rogue! If the Jaylors be so pregnant what is the hangman, troe? By the time my misery hath brought me to climbe to his acquaintance I shall find a frend to the last gaspe. What's here? a Lady? are the weomen so cruell here to insult ore Captive wretches. _Enter Catelyna & Jaylor_. _Cat_. Is this the English prisoner? _Jay_. Yes, madam. _Cat_. Trust me, a goodly person. _Pike_. She eyes me wistly; sure she comes not to instruct her selfe in the art of painting by the patternes of my face! _Cat_. Sir, shall I speake with you? _Pike_. Yes, Lady, so you will not mock mee. _Cat_. Indeed I cannot, but must needs acknowledge Myselfe beholding to you. _Pike_. This I must beare; I will doe soe & call't my sweet affliction. _Cat_. Will you heare me, sir? I am the Lady-- _Pike_. Yes, I doe heare you say you are the Lady; but let me tell you, madam, that Ladyes, though they should have tenderest sence of honour & all vertuous goodnesse, & so resemble Goddesses as well in soule as feature, doe often prove dissemblers & in their seemely breasts beare cruelty & mischiefe. If you be one of those, oh, be converted; returne from whence you came & know 'tis irreligious, nay divelish to tread & triumph over misery. _Cat_. How well he speakes, yet in the sence bewraying A sence distracted: sure his captivity, His wounds, & hard entreaty make him franticke! Pray heare me, sir, & in two words Ile tell you Enough to win beleeife: I am the Lady Of the Knight vanquished by you, _Don John_. _Pike_. Y'have said enough, indeed: pitty of heaven, What new invented cruelty is this! Was't not enough that by his ruthlesse basenes I had these wounds inflicted, but I must Be tortured with his wifes uniust reioycings! 'Twas well his politicke feare, which durst not come To glory in his handy worke himselfe, Could send your priviledg'd Ladyship.