Beaumont and Fletcher's Works. Volume 9

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.

    [Exit.

Enter Sebastian and Nicusa

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. Do they live still?

Sebast. Yes, and make to harbor:

Nicu. Most miserable men; I grieve their fortunes.

Sebast. How happy had they been, had the Sea cover'd em!
They leap from one calamity to another;
Had they been drown'd, they had ended all their sorrows.
What shouts of joy they make!

Nicu. Alas poor wretches, had they but once experience
Of this Island, they'd turn their tunes to wailings.

Sebast. Nay, to curses.
That ever they set foot on such calamities;
Here's nothing but Rocks and barrenness,
Hunger, and cold to eat; here's no Vineyards
To cheer the heart of man, no Christal Rivers,
After his labour, to refresh his body,
If he be feeble; nothing to restore him,
But heavenly hopes, nature that made those remedies,
Dares not come here, nor look on our distresses,
For fear she turn wild, like the place, and barren.

Nicu. Oh Uncle, yet a little memory of what we were,
'Twill be a little comfort in our calamities;
When we were seated in our blessed homes,
How happy in our kindreds, in our families,
In all our fortunes!

Sebast. Curse on those French Pirats, that displanted us;
That flung us from that happiness we found there;
Constrain'd us to Sea, to save our lives, honors, and our riches,
With all we had, our kinsmen, and our jewels,
In hope to find some place free from such robbers,
Where a mighty storm sever'd our Barks,
That, where my Wife, my Daughter
And my noble Ladies that went with her,
Virgins and loving souls, to scape those Pirats.

Nicus. They are yet living; such goodness cannot perish.

Sebast. But never to me Cosin;
Never to me again; what bears their Flag-staves?

Nicu. The Arms of France sure;
Nay, doe not start, we cannot be more miserable;
Death is a cordial, now, come when it will.

Sebast. They get to shore apace, they'll flie as fast
When once they find the place; what's that which swims there?

Ni. A strong young man, Sir, with a handsom woman.
Hanging about his neck.

Sebast. That shews some honor;
May thy brave charity, what e'er thou art,
Be spoken in a place that may renown thee,
And not dye here.