_Ses._ Have patience, and know all. Pursu'd him fairly, Till I was laugh'd at, scorn'd, my wrongs made Maygames. By him unjustly wrong'd, should be al[l] justice, The slave protected; yet at length I found him, Found him, when he suppos'd all had been buried; And what I had received, durst not be questioned; And then he fell, under my Sword he fell, For ever sunk; his poor life, like the air, Blown in an empty bubble, burst, and left him, No noble wind of memory to raise him. But then began my misery, I fled; The Kings frowns following, and my friends despair; No hand that durst relieve: my Countrey fearful, Basely and weakly fearful of a tyrant; Which made his bad Will worse, stood still and wondred, Their virtues bedrid in 'em; then my girl, A little one, I snatch'd thee from thy Nurse, The modell of thy fathers miseries: And some small wealth was fit for present carriage, And got to Sea; where I profest my anger, And will do, whilst that base ungrateful Countrey, And that bad King, have blood or means to quench me. Now ye know all. _Mast._ We know all, and admire all; Go on, and do all still, and still be fortunate. _Daught._ Had you done less, or lost this Noble anger, You had been worthy then mens empty pities, And not their wonders. Go on, and use your justice. And use it still with that fell violence, It first appeared to you; if you go less, Or take a d[o]ting mercy to protection, The honor of a Father I disclaim in you, Call back all duty; and will be prouder of Th' infamous and base name of a whore, Than daughter to a great Duke and a coward. _Ses._ Mine own sweet _Martia_, no: thou knowst my nature, It cannot, must not be. _Daugh._ I hope it shall not. But why Sir do you keep alive still young _Ascanio_, Prince of _Rossana_, King _Ferrants_ most belov'd one, You took two months agoe? Why is not he flung overboard, or hang'd? _Ses._ I'll tell thee girl: It were a mercy in my nature now, So soon to break the bed of his afflictions; I am not so far reconcil'd yet to him, To let him die that were a benefit. Besides, I keep him as a bait and diet, To draw on more, and nearer to the King, I look each hour to hear of his _Armados_, And a hot welcome they shall have. _Daugh._ But hark you! If you were oversway'd with odds-- _Ses._ I find you: I would not yield; no girl, no hope of yielding, Nor fling my self one hour into their mercies, And give the tyrant hope to gain his kingdom. No, I can sink wench, and make shift to die; A thousand doors are open, I shall hit one. I am no niggard of my life so it go nobly: All waies are equal, and all hours; I care not. _Daugh._ Now you speak like my father.