_Sess._ Pray Captain, let me ask you What Noble Lady's that? 'tis a rude question, But I desire to know. _Ron._ She is for the King, Sir; Let that suffice for answer. _Sess._ Is she so Sir? In good time may she curse it. Must I breed hackneys for his grace? _Ron._ What wouldst thou do To merit such a Ladies favor? _Sess._ Any thing. _Ron._ That can supply thy wants, and raise thy fortunes? _Ses._ Let her command, and see what I dare execute. I keep my conscience here; if any man Oppose her will, and she would have him humbled, Whole families between her and her wishes-- _Mast._ We have seen bleeding throats sir, Cities sackt; And infants stuck upon their pikes. _Botes._ Houses a fire, and handsome mothers weeping. _Ses._ Which we have heaped upon the pile like sacrifices. Churches and Altars, Priests and all devotions, Tumbled together into one rude _Chaos_. _Gun._ We know no fear Sir, but want of imployment. _Sess._ Nor other faith but what our purses preach. To gain our ends we can do any thing, And turn our souls into a thousand figures; But when we come to do-- _Mart._ I like these fellows. _Ron._ Be ready and wait here within this hour I'll shew you to the King, and he shall like ye: And if you can devise some entertainment To fill his mirth, such as your Countrey uses, Present it, and I'll see it grac'd. After this _Comicke Scene_ we shall imploy you, For one must dye. _Sess._ What is he sir? speak boldly, For we dare boldly do. _Ron._ This Ladies husband; His name is _Virolet_. _Sess._ We shall dispatch it. [_Exit_ Martia, Ronvere. O damned, damned thing: a base whore first: And then a murtherer, I'll look to you. _Bots._ Can she be grown so strange? _Ses._ She has an itch; I'll scratch you my dear daughter, I'll so claw you; I'll curry your hot hide; married and honour'd? And turn those holy blessings into brothels? Your beauty into blood? I'll hunt your hotness. I'll hunt you like a train. _Mast._ We did all pitty her. _Ses._ Hang her, she is not worth mans memory; She's false and base, and let her fright all stories. Well, though thou beest mine enemy, I'll right thee, And right thee Nobly. _Bots._ Faith sir, since she must go, Let's spare as few as may be. _Ses._ We'll take all, And like a torrent sweep the slaves before us. You dare endure the worst? _Mast._ You know our hearts sir, And they shall bleed the last, ere we start from ye. _Gun._ We can but dye, and ere we come to that, We shall pick out some few examples for us.