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.
Cro. None, unless you shew us
Our long lost Husbands.
We are those Portugals you talk'd of.
Ray. Stay,
I met upon the Sea in a tall Ship
Two Portugals, famish'd almost to death.
Tib. Our Ship by this Wine.
And those the rogues that stole her,
Left us to famish in the barren Islands.
Ray. Some such tale they told me,
And something of a Woman, which I find,
To be my Sister.
Cro. Where are these men?
Ray. I left 'em,
Supposing they had deluded me with forg'd tales,
In the Island, where they said
They had liv'd many years the wretched owners
Of a huge mass of treasure.
Alb. The same men: and that the fatal muck
We quarrell'd for.
Cro. They were Portugals you say.
Ray. So they profess'd.
Cro. They may prove such men as may save your lives,
And so much I am taken with fair hope,
That I will hazard life to be resolv'd on't:
How came you hither?
Ray. My ship lies by the Rivers mouth,
That can convey ye to these wretched men,
Which you desire to see.
Cro. Back to your prisons,
And pray for the success: if they be those
Which I desire to find, you are safe;
If not, prepare to die to morrow:
For the world cannot redeem ye.
Alb. However, we are arm'd
For either fortune.
Tib. What must become of me now
That I am not dismiss'd?
Cro. Oh Sir, I purpose
To have your company.
Ti. Take heed wicked woman,
I am apt to mischief now.
Cro. You cannot be so unkind,
To her that gives you liberty.
Ti. No, I shall be too kind, that's the devil on't;
I have had store of good wine: and when I am drunk,
Joan