_Enter a Seaman_. _Sea_. For Heaven’s sake, Sirs, do not stand idle here; Gentlemen, if you wou’d save your lives,--draw and defend ‘em. [_Exit_. _Fran_. Draw! I never drew any thing in my Life, but my Purse, and that most damnably against my will; oh, what shall I do? _Enter_ Captain. _Capt_. Ah, my Lord, they bear up briskly to us, with a fresh Gale and full Sails. _Fran_. Oh, dear Captain, let us tack about and go home again. _Capt_. ‘Tis impossible to scape, we must fight it out. _Fran_. Fight it out! oh, I’m not able to indure it,--why, what the Devil made me a ship-board? [_Ex_. Cap. _Guil_. Why, where be these _Turks_? set me to ‘em, I’ll make ‘em smoke, Dogs, to dare attack a man of Quality. _Isa_. Oh, the Insolence of these _Turks_! do they know who’s aboard? for Heaven’s sake, my Lord, do not expose your noble Person. _Guil_. What, not fight?--Not fight! A Lord, and not fight? Shall I submit to Fetters, and see my Mistress ravish’d by any great _Turk_ in Christendom, and not fight? _Isa_. I’d rather be ravish’d a thousand times, than you should venture your Person. [_Seamen shout within_. _Fran_. Ay, I dare swear. _Enter Seaman_. _Sea_. Ah, Sirs, what mean you? Come on the Deck for shame. _Ant_. My Lord, let us not tamely fall, there’s danger near. [_Draws_. _Guil_. Ay, ay, there’s never smoke, but there’s some fire--Come, let’s away--ta la, tan ta la, la la, &c. [Draws. [Exit _singing, and_ Antonio _and_ Pet. _Fran_. A Pox of all Lords, I say, you must be janting in the Devil’s name, and God’s dry Ground wou’d not serve your turn. [_Shout here_. Oh, how they thunder! What shall I do?--oh, for some Auger-hole to thrust my head into, for I could never indure the noise of Cannons,--oh, ’.is insupportable,--intolerable--and not to be indur’d. [_Running as mad about the Stage_. _Isa_. Dear Father, be not so frighted. [_Weeps_. _Fran_. Ah, Crocodile, wou’d thou hadst wept thy Eyes out long ago, that thou hadst never seen this Count; then he had never lov’d thee, and then we had never been invited a ship-board. [_A noise of fighting_. _Enter_ Guiliom, Pet. _and_ Antonio, driven in fighting by Guzman _and other_ Turks. _Ant_. Ah, Sir, the _Turks_ have boarded us, we’re lost, we’re lost. _Fran_. Oh, I am slain, I’m slain. [_Falls down_. _Guil_. Hold, hold, I say, you are now in the presence of Ladies, and ’.is uncivil to fight before Ladies. _Guz_. Yield then, you are our Slaves. _Guil_. Slaves, no Sir, we’re Slaves to none but the Ladies. [_Offers to fight_. _Isa_. Oh, hold, rude man,--d’ye know whom you encounter? _Guz_. What’s here--one dead-- [_Looking on_ Francisco. _Fran_. Oh, Lord!