As it from us rais’d not a dust of pitty
So did it give no terrour to the rest
That did but live to see their fellows dye. 
In all our rigours and afflicting tortures
We cannot say that we the men subdu’d,
Because their ioy was louder than our conquest. 
And still more worke of blood we must expect;
Like Hydra’s Heads by cutting off they double;
As seed that multiplies, such are their dead—­
Next Moone a sheafe of Christians in ones stead.

Vic.  This is a bloody Trade, my Bellizarius; Would thou wouldst give it over.

Belliz.  ’Tis worke, Victoria, that must be done. 
These are the battailes of our blessing,
Pleasing gods and goddesses who for our service
Render us these Conquests. 
Our selves and our affaires we may neglect,
But not our Deities, which these Christians
Prophane deride and scoffe at; would new Lawes
Bring in and a new God make.

Vic.  No, my Lord; I have heard say they never make their Gods, But they serve ’em, they say, that did make them:  All made-gods they dispise.

Belliz.  Tush, tush, Victoria, let not thy pitty Turne to passions; they’le not deserve thy sorrow.  How now?  What’s the newes?

    Enter a Souldier.

Sold.  Strange, my Lord, beyond a wonder,
For ’tis miraculous.  Since you forsooke
The bloody fight and horrour of the Christians,
One tortur’d wretch, whose sight was quite extinct,
His eyes no farther seeing than his hands,
Is now by that Eugenius, whom they call
Their holy Bishop, cleerely restor’d again
To the astonishment of all your Army,
Who faintly now recoyle with feare and terrour
Not daring to offend so great a power.

Belliz.  Ha! ’tis strange thou tell’st me.

Vic.  Oh, take heed, my Lord;
It is no warring against heavenly Powers
Who can command their Conquest when they please. 
They can forbeare the Gyants that throw stones,
And smile upon their follies; but when they frowne
Their angers fall downe perpendicular
And strike their weake Opposer into nothing: 
The Thunder tells us so.

Belliz.  Pray leave me all; I shall have company When you are gone, enough to fill the roome.

Vic.  The holiest powers give thee their best direction.

[Exeunt:  Manet Bellizarius.

Belliz.  What power is that can fortifie a man
To ioy in death, since all we can expect
Is but fruition of the ioyes of life? 
If Christians hoped not to become immortall
Why should they seeke for death? 
O, then instruct me some Divine power;
Thou that canst give the sight unto the blind,
Open my blind iudgement Thunder:  Enter an Angel. 
That I may see a way to happinesse. 
Ha, this is a dreadfull answer; this may chide