_Pike_. I will so.--Prepare to dye! An excellent bell & it sounds sweetly. He that prepares to dye rigges a goodly ship; he that is well prepard is ready to launch forth; he that prepares well & dyes well, arrives at a happy haven. Prepare to dye! preparation is the sauce, death the meate, my soule & body the guests; & to this feast will I goe, boldly as a man, humbly as a Christian, & bravely as an _Englishman_. Oh my Children, my Children! my poore Wife & Children! _Enter Jaylour, & 3 Spanish Picaroes chayned_. _Jay_. Here's a chearefull morning towards, my brave blouds! 1. Yes, Jaylor, if thou wert to be hangd in one of our roomes. _Jay_. On, on; the Lords will sitt presently. 2. What's hee? _Jay_. An _Englishman_. 3. A dog! 1. A divell! 2. Let's beate out his braines with our Irons. _Jay_. On, on; leave rayling, cursing & lying: had you not run from the Castle the hangman & you had bene "hayle fellow! well met:" On! _All_. Crowes pecke thy eyes out, _English_ dog, curre, toad, hell hound! [_Exeunt_. _Pike_. Patience is a good armour, humility a strong headpiece, would I had you all three, I know where. _Enter Bustamente shackled, & Jaylor_. _Bust_. Whither dost lead me? _Jay_. To a roome by your selfe: 'tis my office to have a care of my nurse children. _Bust_. I have worne better _Spanish_ gaiters: thus rewarded for my service! _Jay_. See, Capt. _Bustamente_; doe you know this fellow? _Bust_. No. _Jay_. The Englishman brought prisoner into the Citty, & from thence hither. _Pike_. Oh, Captaine, I saw you at the fort performe the part of a man. _Bust_. And now thou seest me acting the part of a slave. Farewell, soldier. I did not hate thee at the first, though there we mett enemyes; and if thou & I take our leaves at the Gallowes, prithee letts part friends. [_A Table out, sword & papers[42] _Jay_. Come along, you two. _Pike_. Hand in hand, if the Captaine please: noble _Bustamente_, at the winning of the fort we had a brave breakfast. _Bust_. True, but I doubt not we shall have worse cheare at dinner. _Jay_. When was ever any meat well dressd in the hangmans kitchen! [_Exeunt_. (SCENE 3.) _Enter Fernando, bareheaded, talking with the Duke of Macada; Duke Gyron, Medyna, Marquesse d'Alquevezzas; 2 Gen., one with Pikes sword, which is laid on a table; Jaylour, Teniente; Clarke with papers_. _Mac_. Where's the _Teniente_? _Clarke_. The Duke calls for you. _Ten_. Here, my Lord. _Mac_. 'Tis the King's pleasure that those fugitives Which basely left the fort should not be honourd With a judiciall tryall, but presently (Both those you have at home & these in _Sherrys_) To dye by martiall law. _Ten_. My Lord, Ile see it done. _Mac_. Dispatch the rest here. _Jay_. Yes, my Lord; Ile bring them carefully together to end the busines.