_Mir._ Sir, to do My poor devotions, and to offer thanks For scaping a temptation near perform'd With this fair Virgin. I restore a wife Earth cannot parallel: and busie nature If thou wilt still make women, but remember To work 'em by this sampler; take heed, Sir, Henceforth you never doubt, Sir. _Gom._ When I do Death take me suddainly. _Mir._ To increase your happiness To your best wife take this addition. _Gom._ Alack my poor knave. _Val._ The confession The _Moor_ made 't seems was truth. _Nor._ Marry was it Sir; the only truth that ever issued out of hell, which her black jawes resemble; a plague o' your bacon-face, you must be giving drinks with a vengeance; ah thou branded bitch: do' ye stare goggles, I hope to make winter-boots o' thy hide yet, she fears not damning: hell fire cannot parch her blacker than she is: d' ye grin, chimney-sweeper. _Ori._ What is't _Miranda_? _Mir._ That you would please _Lucinda_ might attend you. _Col._ That suit Sir, I consent not to. _Luc._ My husband? My dearest _Angelo_? _Nor._ More _Jiggam-bobs_; is not this the fellow that swom Like a duck to th' shore in our sea-service? _Col._ The very same, do not you know me now, Sir, My name is _Angelo_, though _Colonna_ vail'd it, Your Countrey-man and kinsman born in _Florence_, Who from the neighbor-Island here of _Goza_ Was captive led, in that unfortunate day When the _Turk_ bore with him three thousand souls; Since in _Constantinople_ have I liv'd Where I beheld this _Turkish_ Damsel first. A tedious suitor was I for her love, And pittying such a beauteous case should hide A soul prophan'd with infidelity, I labour'd her conversion with my love, And doubly won her; to fair faith her soul She first betroth'd, and then her faith to me, But fearful there to consummate this contract We fled, and in that flight were ta'en again By those same Gallies, 'fore _Valetta_ fought. Since in your service I attended her, Where, what I saw, and heard, hath joy'd me more Than all my past afflictions griev'd before. _Val._ Wonders crown wonders: take thy wife _Miranda_. Be henceforth call'd our _Malta_'s better Angel, And thou her evil _Mountferrat_. _Nor._ We'll call him _Cacodemon_, with his black gib there, his _Succuba_, his devils seed, his spawn of _Phlegeton_, that o' my conscience was bred o' the spume of _Cocitus_; do ye snarle you black Jill? she looks like the Picture of _America_. _Val._ Why stay we now. _Mir._ This last petition to the Court, I may bequeath the keeping of my Fort To this my kinsman, toward the maintenance Of him, and his fair virtuous wife; discreet, Loyal, and valiant I dare give him you. _Val._ You must not ask in vain, Sir.