_Fath._ I see they are Souldiers; And if we may judge by affections, Brave and deserving men; how they are stir'd But with a meer relation of what may be? Since I have won belief, and am not known, Forgive me, Honour, I'll make use of thee. _Fab._ Sir, would I were a man, or great, or able To look with liberal eyes upon your vertue. _Jac._ Let's give him all we have, and leave off prating. Here, Souldier, there's even five months pay, be merry, And get thee handsom Cloaths. _Fab._ What mean you, _Jacomo_? _Jac._ Ye are a fool, The very story's worth a hundred pound. Give him more money. _Fath._ Gentlemen, I know not How I am able to deserve this blessing; But if I live to see fair days again, Something I'll do in honour of your goodness, That shall shew thankfulness, if not desert. _Fab._ If you please, Sir, till we procure ye place, To eat with us, or wear such honest Garments As our poor means can reach to, you shall be A welcome man; to say more, were to feed ye Only with words; we honour what y'have been, For we are Souldiers, though not near the worth You spake of lately. _Fath._ I do guess ye so, And knew, unless ye were a Souldier, Ye could not find the way to know my wants. _Jac._ But methinks all this while y'are too temperate; Do you not tell men sometimes of the dulness When you are grip't, as now you are with need? I do, and let them know those silks they wear, The War weaves for 'em; and the bread they eat We sow, and reap again to feed their hunger; I tell them boldly, they are masters of Nothing but what we fight for; their fair women Lye playing in their arms, whilst we, like _Lares_ Defend their pleasures; I am angry too, And often rail at these forgetful great men That suffer us to sue for what we ought To have flung on us, e're we ask. _Fath._ I have Too often told my griefs that way, when all I reapt, was rudeness of behaviour; In their opinion men of War that thrive, Must thank 'em when they rail, and wait to live. _Fab._ Come, Sir, I see your wants need more relieving, Than looking what they are; pray go with us. _Fath._ I thank you, Gentlemen; since you are pleas'd To do a benefit, I dare not cross it, And what my service or endeavours may Stand you in stead, you shall command, not pray. [_Exeunt._ _Jac._ So you shall us, I'll to the Taylors with you bodily. SCENE II. _Enter_ Frederick, Lodovico, _and_ Piso. _Lod._ Well, if this be true, I'll believe a Woman When I have nothing else to do.