_1. Sold._ Heaven send you health Sir. _Serv._ Let me lead you in. _Mark._ My wound's not in my feet; I shall entreat 'em I hope to bear me so far. [_Exit._ _2. Sold._ How seriously these land men fled, when our General made a Shot, as if he had been a warning to call 'em to their Hall. _1. Sold._ I cannot blame 'em, What man have they now in the Town, able to maintain a Tumult, or uphold a matter out Of square if need be? O the quiet hurley burleys that I Have seen in this Town, when we have fought four hours Together, and not a man amongst us so impertinent or Modest to ask why? but now the pillars that bare Up this blessed Town in that regular debate, and Scambling, are dead, the more's the pitty. _2. Sold._ Old _Ignatio_ lives still. _1. Sold._ Yes, I know him: he will do prettily well at a mans liver: But where is there any man now living in the Town That hath a steady hand, and understands _Anatomy_ Well? if it come to a particular matter of the lungs, Or the spleen, why? alas _Ignatio_ is to seek; are There any such men left as I have known, that Would say they would hit you in this place? is there Ever a good heartist, or a member-percer, or a Small-gut man left in the Town, answer Me that? _2. Sold._ Mass, I think there be not. _1. Sold._ No, I warrant thee. Come, come, 'tis time We were at the Galleys. [_Exeunt._ _Enter_ Governor, Eugenia, Mark-antonio, Philippo, Theodosia, Leocadia, _Attendants._ _Gover._ Sir, you may know by what I said already, You may command my house; but I must beg Pardon to leave you, if the publick business Forc'd me not from you, I my self should call it Unmannerly: but good Sir, do you give it A milder name: it shall not be an hour Ere I return. _Mar[c]._ Sir, I was nere so poor In my own thoughts, as that I want a means To requite this with. _Gov._ Sir, within this hour. [_Exit._ _Marc._ This the Lady that I quarrell'd for? O lust if wounds cannot restrain thy power, Let shame: nor do I feel my hurt at all, Nor is it ought, only I was well beaten: If I pursue it, all the civil world That ever did imagine the content Found in the band of man and wife unbroke, The reverence due to housholds, or the blemish That may be stuck upon posterity Will catch me, bind me, burn upon my forehead, This is the wounded stranger, that receiv'd For charity into a house, attempted-- I will not do it. _Eug._ Sir, how do you do now? That you walk off. _Marc._ Worse Madam, than I was; But it will over. _Eug._ Sit, and rest a while. _Marc._ Where are the Surgeons?