No More Learning

_Tow. _ Sir, I wait you. [_Exeunt_ HARMAN _Sen. _ TOWERSON, BEAMONT,
_and_ VAN HERRING.

_Enter Captain_ PEREZ.

_Fisc. _ Now, captain, when perform you what you promised, concerning
Towerson's death?

_Per. _ Never. --There, Judas, take your hire of blood again.
[_Throws him a purse. _

_Har. Jun. _ Your reason for this sudden change?

_Per. _ I cannot own the name of man, and do it.

_Har. Jun. _ Your head shall answer the neglect of what you were
commanded.

_Per. _ If it must, I cannot shun my destiny.

_Fisc. _ Harman, you are too rash; pray hear his reasons first.

_Per. _ I have them to myself, I'll give you none.

_Fisc. _ None? that's hard; well, you can be secret, captain, for your
own sake, I hope?

_Per. _ That I have sworn already, my oath binds me.

_Fisc. _ That's enough: we have now chang'd our minds, and do not wish
his death,--at least as you shall know. [_Aside. _

_Per. _ I am glad on't, for he's a brave and worthy gentleman; I would
not for the wealth of both the Indies have had his blood upon my soul
to answer.

_Fisc. _ [_Aside to_ HARMAN. ] I shall find a time to take back our
secret from him, at the price of his life, when he least dreams of it;
meantime 'tis fit we speak him fair. [_To_ PEREZ. ] Captain, a reward
attends you, greater than you could hope; we only meant to try your
honesty. I am more than satisfied of your reasons.

_Per. _ I still shall labour to deserve your kindness in any honourable
way. [_Exit_ PEREZ.

_Har. Jun. _ I told you that this Spaniard had not courage enough for
such an enterprise.

_Fisc. _ He rather had too much of honesty.

_Har. Jun. _ Oh, you have ruined me; you promised me this day the death
of Towerson, and now, instead of that, I see him happy! I'll go and
fight him yet; I swear he never shall enjoy her.

_Fisc. _ He shall not, that I swear with you; but you are too rash, the
business can never be done your way.

_Har. Jun. _ I'll trust no other arm but my own with it.

_Fisc. _ Yes, mine you shall, I'll help you. This evening, as he goes
from the castle, we'll find some way to meet him in the dark, and then
make sure of him for getting maidenheads to-night; to-morrow I'll
bestow a pill upon my Spanish Don, lest he discover what he knows.

_Har. Jun. _ Give me your hand, you'll help me.

_Fisc. _ By all my hopes I will: in the mean time, with a feigned mirth
'tis fit we gild our faces; the truth is, that we may smile in
earnest, when we look upon the Englishman, and think how we will use
him.

_Har. Jun. _ Agreed; come to the castle. [_Exeunt. _


SCENE III. --_The Castle. _

_Enter_ HARMAN _Senior,_ TOWERSON, _and_ ISABINDA, BEAMONT, COLLINS,
VAN HERRING. _They seat themselves. _

EPITHALAMIUM.

_The day is come, I see it rise,
Betwixt the bride and bridegroom's eyes;
That golden day they wished so long,
Love picked it out amidst the throng;
He destined to himself this sun,
And took the reins, and drove him on;
In his own beams he drest him bright,
Yet bid him bring a better night. _

_The day you wished arrived at last,
You wish as much that it were past;
One minute more, and night will hide
The bridegroom and the blushing bride.
The virgin now to bed does go--
Take care, oh youth, she rise not so--
She pants and trembles at her doom,
And fears and wishes thou wouldst come. _

_The bridegroom comes, he comes apace,
With love and fury in his face;
She shrinks away, he close pursues,
And prayers and threats at once does use.
She, softly sighing, begs delay,
And with her hand puts his away;
Now out aloud for help she cries,
And now despairing shuts her eyes. _

_Har. Sen. _ I like this song, 'twas sprightly; it would restore me
twenty years of youth, had I but such a bride.

_A Dance. _

_After the Dance, enter_ HARMAN _Junior, and_ FISCAL.

_Beam. _ Come, let me have the Sea-Fight; I like that better than a
thousand of your wanton epithalamiums.

_Har. Jun. _ He means that fight, in which he freed me from the
pirates.

_Tow. _ Pr'ythee, friend, oblige me, and call not for that song; 'twill
breed ill blood. [_To_ BEAMONT.

_Beam. _ Pr'ythee be not scrupulous, ye fought it bravely. Young Harman
is ungrateful, if he does not acknowledge it. I say, sing me the
Sea-Fight.

THE SEA-FIGHT.

_Who ever saw a noble sight,
That never viewed a brave sea-fight!
Hang up your bloody colours in the air,
Up with your fights, and your nettings prepare;
Your merry mates cheer, with a lusty bold spright,
Now each man his brindice, and then to the fight.
St George, St George, we cry,
The shouting Turks reply:
Oh now it begins, and the gun-room grows hot,
Ply it with culverin and with small shot;
Hark, does it not thunder? no, 'tis the guns roar,
The neighbouring billows are turned into gore;
Now each man must resolve, to die,
For here the coward cannot fly.
Drums and trumpets toll the knell,
And culverins the passing bell.
Now, now they grapple, and now board amain;
Blow up the hatches, they're off all again:
Give them a broadside, the dice run at all,
Down comes the mast and yard, and tacklings fall;
She grows giddy now, like blind Fortune's wheel,
She sinks there, she sinks, she turns up her keel.
Who ever beheld so noble a sight,
As this so brave, so bloody sea-fight! _

_Har. Jun. _ See the insolence of these English; they cannot do a brave
action in an age, but presently they must put it into metre, to
upbraid us with their benefits.

_Fisc. _ Let them laugh, that win at last.

_Enter Captain_ MIDDLETON, _and a Woman with him, all pale and
weakly, and in tattered garments. _

_Tow. _ Captain Middleton, you are arrived in a good hour, to be
partaker of my happiness, which is as great this day, as love and
expectation can make it. [_Rising up to salute_ MIDDLETON.

_Mid. _ And may it long continue so!

_Tow. _ But how happens it, that, setting out with us from England, you
came not sooner hither.

_Mid. _ It seems the winds favoured you with a quicker passage; you
know I lost you in a storm on the other side of the Cape, with which
disabled, I was forced to put into St Helen's isle; there 'twas my
fortune to preserve the life of this our countrywoman; the rest let
her relate.

_Isab. _ Alas, she seems half-starved, unfit to make relations.

_Van Her. _ How the devil came she off? I know her but too well, and
fear she knows me too.

_Tow. _ Pray, countrywoman, speak.

_Eng Wom. _ Then thus in brief; in my dear husband's company, I parted
from our sweet native isle: we to Lantore were bound, with letters
from the States of Holland, gained for reparation of great damages
sustained by us; when, by the insulting Dutch, our countrymen, against
all show of right, were dispossessed, and naked sent away from that
rich island, and from Poleroon.

_Har. Sen. _ Woman, you speak with too much spleen; I must not hear my
countrymen affronted.

_Eng. Wom. . _ I wish they did not merit much worse of me, than I can
say of them. --Well, we sailed forward with a merry gale, till near St
Helen's isle we were overtaken, or rather waylaid, by a Holland
vessel; the captain of which ship, whom here I see, the man who
quitted us of all we had in those rich parts before, now fearing to
restore his ill-got goods, first hailed, and then invited us on board,
keeping himself concealed; his base lieutenant plied all our English
mariners with wine, and when in dead of night they lay secure in
silent sleep, most barbarously commanded they should be thrown
overboard.

_Fisc. _ Sir, do not hear it out.

_Har. Sen. _ This is all false and scandalous.

_Tow. _ Pray, sir, attend the story.

_Eng. Wom. _ The vessel rifled, and the rich hold rummaged, they sink
it down to rights; but first I should have told you, (grief, alas, has
spoiled my memory) that my dear husband, wakened at the noise, before
they reached the cabin where we lay, took me all trembling with the
sudden fright, and leapt into the boat; we cut the cordage, and so put
out to sea, driving at mercy of the waves and wind; so scaped we in
the dark. To sum up all, we got to shore, and in the mountains hid us,
until the barbarous Hollanders were gone.

_Tow. _ Where is your husband, countrywoman?

_Eng. Wom. _ Dead with grief; with these two hands I scratched him out
a grave, on which I placed a cross, and every day wept o'er the ground
where all my joys lay buried. The manner of my life, who can express!
the fountain-water was my only drink; the crabbed juice and rhind of
half-ripe lemons almost my only food, except some roots; my house, the
widowed cave of some wild beast. In this sad state, I stood upon the
shore, when this brave captain with his ship approached, whence
holding up and waving both my hands, I stood, and by my actions begged
their mercy; yet, when they nearer came, I would have fled, had I been
able, lest they should have proved those murderous Dutch, I more than
hunger feared.

_Har. Sen. _ What say you to this accusation, Van Herring?

_Van Her. _ 'Tis as you said, sir, false and scandalous.

_Har. Sen. _ I told you so; all false and scandalous.

_Isab. _ On my soul it is not; her heart speaks in her tongue, and were
she silent, her habit and her face speak for her.

_Beam. _ Sir, you have heard the proofs.

_Fisc. _ Mere allegations, and no proofs. Seem not to believe it, sir.

_Har. Sen. _ Well, well, we'll hear it another time.

_Mid. _ You seem not to believe her testimony, but my whole crew can
witness it.

_Van Her. _ Ay, they are all Englishmen.

_Tow. _ That's a nation too generous to do bad actions, and too sincere
to justify them done; I wish their neighbours were of the same temper.

_Har. Sen. _ Nay, now you kindle, captain; this must not be, we are
your friends and servants.

_Mid. _ 'Tis well you are by land, at sea you would be masters: there I
myself have met with some affronts, which, though I wanted power then
to return, I hailed the captain of the Holland ship, and told him he
should dearly answer it, if e'er I met him in the narrow seas. His
answer was, (mark but the insolence) If I should hang thee, Middleton,
up at thy main yard, and sink thy ship, here's that about my neck
(pointing to his gold chain) would answer it when I came into Holland.

_Har. Jan. _ Yes, this is like the other.

_Tow. _ I find we must complain at home; there's no redress to be had
here.

_Isab. _ Come, countrywoman,--I must call you so, since he who owns my
heart is English born,--be not dejected at your wretched fortune; my
house is yours, my clothes shall habit you, even these I wear, rather
than see you thus.

_Har. Sen. _ Come, come, no more complaints; let us go in; I have ten
rummers ready to the bride; as many times shall our guns discharge, to
speak the general gladness of this day. I'll lead you, lady.
[_Takes the Bride by the hand. _

_Tow. _ A heavy omen to my nuptials!
My countrymen oppressed by sea and land,
And I not able to redress the wrong,
So weak are we, our enemies so strong. [_Exeunt. _


ACT IV.

SCENE I. --_A Wood. _

_Enter_ HARMAN _Junior, and_ FISCAL, _with swords, and disguised in
vizards. _

_Har. Jun. _ We are disguised enough; the evening now grows dusk. --I
would the deed were done!

_Enter_ PEREZ _with a Soldier, and overhears them. _

_Fisc. _ 'Twill now be suddenly, if we have courage in this wild woody
walk, hot with the feast and plenteous bowls, the bridal company are
walking to enjoy the cooling breeze; I spoke to Towerson, as I said I
would, and on some private business of great moment, desired that he
would leave the company, and meet me single here.

_Har. Jan. _ Where if he comes, he never shall return But Towerson
stays too long for my revenge; I am in haste to kill him.

_Fisc. _ He promised me to have been here ere now; if you think
fitting, I'll go back and bring him.

_Har. Jun. _ Do so, I'll wait you in this place. [_Exit_ Fisc.

_Per. _ Was ever villany like this of these unknown assassins?
Towerson, in vain I saved thy sleeping life if now I let thee lose it,
when thou wakest; thou lately hast been bountiful to me, and this way
I'll acknowledge it. Yet to disclose their crimes were dangerous. What
must I do? This generous Englishman will strait be here, and
consultation then perhaps will be too late: I am
resolved. --Lieutenant, you have heard, as well as I, the bloody
purpose of these men?

_Sold. _ I have, and tremble at the mention of it.

_Per. _ Dare you adventure on an action, as brave as theirs is base?

_Sold. _ Command my life.

_Per. _ No more. Help me despatch that murderer, ere his accomplice
comes: the men I know not; but their design is treacherous and bloody.

_Sold. _ And he, they mean to kill, is brave himself, and of a nation I
much love.

_Per. _ Come on then. [_Both draw. To_ HAR. ] Villain, thou diest, thy
conscience tells thee why; I need not urge the crime.
[_They assault him. _

_Har. Jun. _ Murder! I shall be basely murdered; help!

_Enter_ TOWERSON.

_Tow. _ Hold, villains! what unmanly odds is this? Courage, whoe'er
thou art; I'll succour thee. [TOWERSON _fights with_ PEREZ, _and_
HARMAN _with the Lieutenant, and
drive them off the stage. _

_Har. Jun. _ Though, brave unknown, night takes thee from my knowledge,
and I want time to thank thee now, take this, and wear it for my sake;
[_Gives him a ring. _] Hereafter I'll acknowledge it more largely.
[_Exit. _

_Tow. _ That voice I've heard; but cannot call to mind, except it be
young Harman's. Yet, who should put his life in danger thus? This ring
I would not take as salary, but as a gage of his free heart who left
it; and, when I know him, I'll restore the pledge. Sure 'twas not far
from hence I made the appointment: I know not what this Dutchman's
business is, yet, I believe, 'twas somewhat from my rival. It shall go
hard, but I will find him out, and then rejoin the company. [_Exit. _

_Re-enter_ HARMAN _Junior, and_ FISCAL.

_Fisc. _ The accident was wondrous strange: Did you neither know your
assassinates, nor your deliverer?

_Har. Jun. _ 'Twas all a hurry; yet, upon better recollecting of
myself, the man, who freed me, must be Towerson.

_Fisc. _ Hark, I hear the company walking this way; will you withdraw?

_Har. Jun. _ Withdraw, and Isabinda coming!

_Fisc. _ The wood is full of murderers; every tree, methinks, hides one
behind it.

_Har. Jun. _ You have two qualities, my friend, that sort but ill
together; as mischievous as hell could wish you, but fearful in the
execution.

_Fisc. _ There is a thing within me, called a conscience which is not
quite o'ercome; now and then it rebels a little, especially when I am
alone, or in the dark.

_Har. Jun. _ The moon begins to rise, and glitters through the trees.

_Isab. _ [_Within. _] Pray let us walk this way; that farther lawn,
between the groves, is the most green and pleasant of any in this
isle.

_Har. Jun. _ I hear my siren's voice, I cannot stir from hence. --Dear
friend, if thou wilt e'er oblige me, divert the company a little, and
give me opportunity a while to talk alone with her.

_Fisc. _ You'll get nothing of her, except it be by force.

_Har. Jun. _ You know not with what eloquence love may inspire my
tongue: The guiltiest wretch, when ready for his sentence, has
something still to say.

_Fisc. _ Well, they come; I'll put you in a way, and wish you good
success; but do you hear? remember you are a man, and she a woman; a
little force, it may be, would do well.

_Enter_ ISABINDA, BEAMONT, MIDDLETON, COLLINS, HARMAN _Senior; and_
JULIA.

_Isab. _ Who saw the bridegroom last?

_Har. Sen. _ He refused to pledge the last rummer; so I am out of
charity with him.

_Beam. _ Come, shall we backward to the castle? I'll take care of you,
lady.

_Jul_ Oh, you have drunk so much, you are past all care.

_Col. _ But where can be this jolly bridegroom? Answer me that; I will
have the bride satisfied.

_Fisc. _ He walked alone this way; we met him lately.

_Isab. _ I beseech you, sir, conduct us.

_Har. Jun. _ I'll bring you to him, madam.

_Fisc. _ [_To_ HAR. _Jun. _] Remember, now's your time; if you o'erslip
this minute, fortune perhaps will never send another.

_Har. Jun. _ I am resolved.

_Fisc. _ Come, gentlemen, I'll tell you such a pleasant accident,
you'll think the evening short.

_Jul. _ I love a story, and a walk by moonshine.

_Fisc. _ Lend me your hand then, madam. [_Takes her by the one hand. _

_Beam. _ But one, I beseech you then; I must not quit her so.
[_Takes her by the other hand. Exeunt. _

_Re-enter_ HARMAN _Junior, and_ ISABINDA.

_Isab. _ Come, sir, which is the way? I long to see my love.

_Har. Jun. _ You may have your wish, and without stirring hence.

_Isab. _ My love so near? Sure you delight to mock me!

_Har. Jun. _ 'Tis you delight to torture me; behold the man who loves
you more than his own eyes; more than the joys of earth, or hopes of
heaven.

_Isab. _ When you renewed your friendship with my Towerson, I thought
these vain desires were dead within you.

_Har. Jun. _ Smothered they were, not dead; your eyes can kindle no
such petty fires, as only blaze a while, and strait go out.

_Isab. _ You know, when I had far less ties upon me, I would not hear
you; therefore wonder not if I withdraw, and find the company.

_Har. Jun. _ That would be too much cruelty, to make me wretched, and
then leave me so.

_Isab. _ Am I in fault if you are miserable? so you may call the rich
man's wealth, the cause and object of the robber's guilt. Pray do not
persecute me farther: You know I have a husband now, and would be loth
to afflict his knowledge with your second folly.

_Har. Jun. _ What wondrous care you take to make him happy! yet I
approve your method. Ignorance! oh, 'tis a jewel to a husband; that
is, 'tis peace in him, 'tis virtue in his wife, 'tis honour in the
world; he has all this, while he is ignorant.

_Isab. _ You pervert my meaning: I would not keep my actions from his
knowledge; your bold attempts I would: But yet henceforth conceal your
impious flames; I shall not ever be thus indulgent to your shame, to
keep it from his notice.

_Har. Jun. _ You are a woman; have enough of love for him and me; I
know the plenteous harvest all is his: He has so much of joy, that he
must labour under it. In charity, you may allow some gleanings to a
friend.

_Isab. _ Now you grow rude: I'll hear no more.

_Har. Jun. _ You must.

_Imb. _ Leave me.

_Har. Jun. _ I cannot.

_Isab. _ I find I must be troubled with this idle talk some minutes
more, but 'tis your last.

_Har. Jun. _ And therefore I'll improve it: Pray, resolve to make me
happy by your free consent. I do not love these half enjoyments, to
enervate my delights with using force, and neither give myself nor you
that full content, which two can never have, but where both join with
equal eagerness to bless each other.

_Isab. _ Bless me, ye kind inhabitants of heaven, from hearing words
like these!

_Har. Jun.