Gyr.  How did she entertaine thee?

Pike.  Rarely; it is a brave, bounteous, munificent, magnificent Marquezza! the great Turke cannot tast better meat then I have eaten at this ladies Table.

Alq.  So, so.

Pike.  And for a lodging, if the curtaines about my bed had bene cutt of Sunbeames, I could not lye in a more glorious Chamber.

Mac.  You have something, then, to speake of our weomen when y’are in England.

Pike.  This Box, with a gold chaine in’t for my Wife & some pretty things for my Children, given me by your honourd Lady would else cry out on me.  There’s a Spanish shirt, richly lacd & seemd, her guift too; & whosoever layes a foul hand upon her linnen in scorne of her bounty, were as good flea[54] the Divells skin over his eares.

Mac.  Well said:  in England thou wilt drinke her health?

Pike.  Were it a glasse as deepe to the bottome as a Spanish pike is long, an Englishman shall doe’t.  Her health, & Don Johns wives too.

    Enter Jaylor.

Jay.  The Prisoners are upon comming.

Mac.  Stand by, Englishman.

    Enter Teniente, Henrico, Manuell, Pedro (as a fryer);
    at another dore Eleonora.

Mac.  Give the Lady roome there!

Clark.  Peace!

Mac.  Your facts are both so foule your hated lives
Cannot be too soone shortned; therefore these Lords
Hold it not fitt to lend you breath till morning,
But now to cutt you off.

Both.  The stroke is welcome.

Pedro.  Shall I prepare you?

Hen.  Save your paynes, good father.

Man.  We have allready cast up our accounts And sent, we hope, our debts up into heaven.

Fer.  Our sorrowes & our sighes fly after them.

Ped.  Then your confession of the murther stands As you your selfe did sett it downe?

Man.  It does;
But on my knees I beg this marginall note
May sticke upon the paper; that no guilt,
But feare of Tortures frighted me to take
That horrid sin upon me.  I am as innocent
And free as are the starres from plotting treason
Gainst their first mover.

Pedro.  I was then in France When of your fathers murther the report Did fill all Paris.

Man.  Such a reverend habit Should not give harbour to so blacke a falshood.

Hen.  Tis blacke, & of my dying; for ’twas I To cheate my brother of my fathers lands, Layd this most hellish plott.

Fer. 3[55] hellish sins, Robbery, Rape & Murther.

Hen.  I’me guilty of all Three; his soul’s as white And cleare from murther as this holy man From killing mee.