Beaumont and Fletcher's Works. Volume 9. Beaumont Francis

      Tib. Away with her, and if she have a Prayer,

      That's fit for such an hour, let her say't quickly,

      And seriously.

      Alb. Come, I see it clear Lady, come in,

      And take some comfort. I'll stay with ye.

      Amint. Where should I stay? to what end should I hope,

      Am not I circled round with misery?

      Confusions in their full heights dwell about me:

      Oh Mounsieur Albert, How am I bound to curse ye,

      If curses could redeem me! how to hate ye!

      You forc'd me from my quiet, from my friends;

      Even from their Arms, that were as dear to me,

      As day-light is, or comfort to the wretched;

      You forc'd my friends from their peaceful rest,

      Some your relentless sword gave their last groans;

      Would I had there been numbred;

      And to fortunes never satisfied afflictions,

      Ye turn'd my Brother; and those few friends I'd left,

      Like desperate creatures, to their own fears

      And the world's stubborn pitties: Oh merciless!

      Alb. Sweet Mistriss.

      Amint. And wh[e]ther they are wandred to avoid ye,

      Or wh[e]ther dead, and no kind earth to cover 'em;

      Was this a Lovers part? but heaven has found ye,

      And in his loudest voice, his voice of thunder,

      And in the mutiny of his deep wonders,

      He tells ye now, ye weep too late:

      Alb. Let these tears tell how I honor ye;

      Ye know dear Lady, since ye are mine,

      How truly I have lov'd ye, how sanctimoniously

      Observ'd your honor; not one lascivious word,

      Not one touch Lady; no, not a hope that might not render me

      The unpolluted servant of your chastity;

      For you I put to sea, to seek your Brother;

      Your Captain, yet your slave, that his redemption,

      If he be living, where the Sun has circuit,

      May expiate your rigor, and my rashness.

      Amint. The storm grows greater, what shall we do?

      Alb. Let's in:

      And ask heavens mercy; my strong mind yet presages,

      Through all these dangers, we shall see a day yet

      Shall crown your pious hopes, and my fair wishes.

      Mast. It must all over-board.

      Boats. It clears to Sea-ward Mast.

      Fling o'er the Lading there, and let's lighten her;

      All the meat, and the Cakes, we are all gone else;

      That we may find her Leaks, and hold her up;

      Yet save some little Bisket for the Lady,

      Till we come to the Land.

      Lam. Must my Goods over too?

      Why honest Master? here lies all my money;

      The Money I ha wrackt by usury,

      To buy new Lands and Lordships in new Countreys,

      'Cause I was banish'd from mine own

      I ha been this twenty years a raising it.

      Tib. Out with it:

      The devils are got together by the ears, who shall have it;

      And here they quarrel in the clouds.

      Lam. I am undone Sir:

      Tib. And be undone, 'tis better than we [perish].

      Lam. Oh save one Chest of Plate.

      Tib. Away with it lustily, Sailors;

      It was some pawn that he has got unjustly;

      Down with it low enough, and let Crabs breed in't.

      Mast. Over with the Trunks too.

      Alb. Take mine and spare not.

      Mast. We must over with all.

      Fran. Will ye throw away my Lordship

      That I sold, put it into cloaths and necessaries,

      To goe to sea with?

      Tib. Over with it; I love to see a Lordship sink;

      Sir, you left no wood upon't, to buoy it up;

      You might ha' sav'd it else.

      Fran. I am undone for ever.

      Alb. Why we are all undone; would you be only happy?

      Lam. Sir, you may loose too.

      Tib. Thou liest; I ha' nothing but my skin,

      And my cloaths; my sword here, and my self;

      Two Crowns in my pocket; two pair of Cards;

      And three false Dice: I can swim like a fish

      Rascal, nothing to hinder me.

      Boatsw. In with her of all hands.

      Mast. Come Gentlemen, come Captain, ye must help all;

      My life now for the Land,

      'Tis high, and rocky, and full of perils.

      Alb. However let's attempt it.

      Mast. Then cheer lustily my hearts.

      Sebast. Yes, 'tis a Ship, I see it now, a tall Ship;

      She has wrought lustily for her deliverance;

      Heavens mercy, what a wretched day has here been!

      Nicu. To still and quiet minds that knew no misery,

      It may seem wretched, but with us 'tis ordinary;

      Heaven has no storm in store, nor earth no terror,

      That can seem new to us.

      Sebast. 'Tis true Nicusa, if fortune were determin'd

      To be wanton, and would wipe out the stories

      Of mens miseries: yet we two living,

      We could cross her purpose; for 'tis impossible

      She should cure us, we are so excellent in our afflictions;

      It would be more than glory to her blindness,

      And stile her power beyond her pride, to quit us.

      Nicu.