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

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      Mast. Who are these?

      Tib. Marry, who you will;

      I keep my Text here.

      Alb. Raymond!

      Ray. Albert!

      Tib. Away, I'll be drunk alone;

      Keep off Rogues, or I'll belch ye into air;

      Not a drop here.

      Amint. Dear brother, put not in your eyes such anger;

      Those looks poison'd with fury, shot at him,

      Reflect on me. Oh brother, look milder, or

      The Crystal of his temperance

      Will turn 'em on your self.

      Alb. Sir, I have sought ye long

      To find your pardon: you have plough'd the Ocean

      To wreak your vengeance on me, for the rape

      Of this fair Virgin. Now our fortune guides us

      To meet on such hard terms, that we need rather

      A mutual pitty of our present state,

      Than to expostulate of breaches past,

      Which cannot be made up. And though it be

      Far from you[r] power, to force me to confess,

      That I have done ye wrong, or such submission

      Failing to make my peace, to vent your anger;

      You being your self slav'd, as I to others:

      Yet for you[r] Sisters sake, her blessed sake,

      In part of recompence of what she has suffer'd

      For my rash folly; the contagion

      Of my black actions, catching hold upon

      Her purer innocence, I crave your mercy;

      And wish however several motives kept us

      From being friends, while we had hope to live,

      Let death which we expect, and cannot fly from,

      End all contention.

      Tib. Drink upon't, 'tis a good motion;

      Ratifie it in Wine, and 'tis authentical.

      Ray. When I consider

      The ground of our long difference, and look on

      Our not to be avoided miseries,

      It doth beget in me I know not how

      A soft Religious tenderness; which tells me,

      Though we have many faults to answer for

      Upon our own account, our Fathers crimes

      Are in us punish'd. Oh Albert, the course

      They took to leave us rich, was not honest,

      Nor can that friendship last, which virtue joyns not.

      When first they forc'd the industrious Portugals,

      From their Plantations in the Happy Islands.

      Cro. This is that I watch for.

      Ray. And did omit no tyranny, which men,

      Inured to spoil, and mischief could inflict,

      On the grie[v]'d sufferers; when by lawless rapine

      They reap'd the harvest, which their Labou[rs] sow'd;

      And not content to force 'em from their dwelling,

      But laid for 'em at Sea to ravish from 'em

      The last remainder of their wealth: then, then,

      After a long pursuit, each doubting other,

      As guilty of the Portugals escape,

      They did begin to quarrel, like [ill] men;

      (Forgive me piety, that I call 'em so)

      No longer love, or correspondence holds,

      Than it is cimented with prey or profit:

      Then did they turn these swords they oft had bloodi'd

      With innocent gore, upon their wretched selves,

      And paid the forfeit of their cruelty

      Shewn to Sebastian, and his Colonie,

      By being fatal enemies to each other.

      Thence grew Amintas rape, and my desire

      To be reveng'd. And now observe the issue:

      As they for spoil ever forgot compassion

      To women, (who should be exempted

      From the extremities of a lawful War)

      We now, young able men, are fall'n into

      The hands of Women; that, against the soft

      Tenderness familiar to their Sex,

      Will shew no mercy.