_Ashb_. It was no more then promisse, and I shoold Fayle in my goodnes not to see that doone. Post to thy mayster, bid him meete us heare: Mean tyme my menn shall rayse the villagers Boathe in the reskewe of these innocent maydes And in defens of holly priveledge. _Clowne_. I fly lyke the winds. _Godf_. And I'l go call the pesants To rayse another tempest. [_Exeunt[104] Clown and Godfrey_. _Ashb_. Hasten boathe And till ayde com I'l laye myne eare and listen To heare what further coyle is kept within: All's silent on the sudden. _Musick_. [_Song within_.] (1) Helpe, Helpe, oh ayde a wretched mayde or els we are undoon then. (2) And have I caught, and have I caught you? in vayne it is to roonne then. (1) Som reskewe then[105] from gods or men redeeme us from these crosses! (2) Tis all in vayne, since nowe I gaine part of my former losses. (1) Oh heaven, defend! what, yet no end of these our strange desasters? (2) No favour's knowne, no pittye's showne to them that fly there maysters. (1) Why to defame, reproch, and shame poor innocents thus dragge yee? (2) With[106] your offens there's no dispence: away then! wherefore lagge yee? _A tumult within and sudden noyse. Enter at one doore Godfrey with country fellowes for there reskewe, at the other Mildewe, Sarlaboys, Palestra, Scribonia_. _Palest_. Where, in what place shall wee bestowe our selfes From this injust man's fury? _Scrib_. If compeld And dragg'd from sanctuary by prophane hands, Where shall we flye to safety? _Ashb_. Wheither, if Not unto us? wee often see the gods Give and bequeathe there justyce unto men, Which wee as fythefully [_sic_] will see performed. _All_. Downe with these saucy companyons! _Godf_. Downe with these sacraligious silsepaereales [?], these unsanctified _Sarlaboyses_ that woold make a very seralia of the sanctuary, and are meare renegadoes to all religion! _Mild_. Stay, hold, are you bandetty? rovers, theives, And wayte you heare to robb and pilladge us The sea so late hathe ryfled? these are myne, My chattells and my goodes, nor can you cease them As wrecks; I appeale unto the admirall. _Ash_. His power I in his absens will supply, And cease yee all as forfett; these as goodds You as superfluous ladinge, till that coort Shall compremise betwixt us. _Mild_. I'the meanetyme Lett mee possesse myne owne; these are my slaves My utensills, my mooveables, and bought With myne owne private coyne. _Sarl_. To which I am witnes. _Mild_. And by the heyre I'l dragge them as myne owne, Wear't from the holly alter. _Pal_. Succor! _Scrib_. Helpe! _Ashb_. Are they not Christians? _Mild_. Yes. _Ash_. What nation? _Mild_. _Englishe_. _Ashb_. In myne owne country borne and shall not I Stand as theire champion then? I tell thee, pesant, _England_'s, no broode for slaves. _Pal_. Oh Syr to you Wee fly as to a father.