Bor. Well Sir.

Gent. Here's mony from the Duke, and't please your Lordship.

Bor. 'Tis well.

Gent. How sowre the Souldiers look?

Bor. Is't told?

Gent. Yes, and for every company a double pay,
And the Dukes love to all.

Anc. That's worth a Ducket.

Bor. You that be Officers, see it discharg'd then,
Why do not you take it up?

Anc. 'Tis too heavy:
'Body o'me, I have strain'd mine arm.

Bor. Do ye scorn it?

Anc. Has your Lor[d]ship any dice about ye? sit round Gentlemen,
And come on seven for my share.

Put. Do you think Sir,
This is the end we fight? can this durt draw us
To such a stupid tameness, that our service
Neglected, and look'd lamely on, and skew'd at
With a few honourable words, and this, is righted?
Have not we eyes and ears, to hear and see Sir,
And minds to understand the slights we carry?
I come home old, and full of hurts, men look on me
As if I had got 'em from a whore, and shun me;
I tell my griefs, and fear my wants, I am answer'd,
Alas 'tis pity! pray dine with me on Sunday:
These are the sores we are sick of, the minds maladies,
And can this cure 'em? you should have us'd us nobly,
And for our doing well, as well proclaim'd us
To the worlds eye, have shew'd and sainted us,
Then ye had paid us bravely: then we had shin'd Sir,
Not in this gilded stuff but in our glory:
You may take back your mony.

Gent. This I fear'd still.

Bor. Consider better Gentlemen.

Anc. Thank your Lordship:
And now I'le put on my considering cap:
My Lord, that I am no Courtier, you may guess it
By having no sute to you for this mony:
For though I want, I want not this, nor shall not,
Whilst you want that civility to rank it
With those rights we expected; mony grows Sir,
And men must gather it, all is not put in one purse.
And that I am no Carter, I could never whistle yet:
But that I am a Souldier, and a Gentleman,
And a fine Gentleman, and't like your honour,
And a most pleasant companion: all you that are witty,
Come list to my ditty: come set in boyes,
With your Lordships patience. [Song.
How do you like my Song, my Lord?

Bor. Even as I like your self, but 'twould be a great deal better,
You would prove a great deal wiser, and take this mony,
In your own phrase I speak now Sir, and 'tis very well
You have learn'd to sing; for since you prove so liberal,
To refuse such means as this, maintain your voice still,
'Twill prove your best friend.

Anc. 'Tis a singing age Sir,
A merry moon here now: I'le follow it:
Fidling, and fooling now, gains more than fighting.

Bor. What is't you blench at? what would you ask? speak freely.

Sol. And so we dare: a triumph for the General,

Put. And then an honour special to his vertue.

Anc. That we may be prefer'd that have serv'd for it,
And cram'd up into favour like the worshipful,
At least upon the Cities charge made drunk
For one whole year; we have done 'em ten years service;
That we may enjoy our lechery without grudging,
And mine, or thine be nothing, all things equal,
And catch as catch may, be proclaim'd: that when we borrow,
And have no will to pay again, no Law
Lay hold upon us, nor no Court controule us.

Bor. Some of these may come to pass; the Duke may do 'em,
And no doubt will: the General will find too,
And so will you, if you but stay with patience: I have no power.

Put. Nor will: come fellow Souldiers.

Bor. Pray be not so distrustfull.

Put. There are waies yet,
And honest waies; we are not brought up Statues.

Anc. If your Lordship
Have any silk stockings, that have holes i'th' heels,
Or ever an honourable Cassock that wants buttons,
I could have cur'd such maladies: your Lordships custome
And my good Ladies, if the bones want setting
In her old bodies—

Bor. This is disobedience.

Anc. Eight pence a day, and hard Eggs.

Put. Troop off Gentlemen,
Some Coin we have, whilst this lasts, or our credits,
We'l never sell our Generals worth for six-pence.
Ye are beholding to us.

Anc. Fare ye well Sir,
And buy a pipe with that: do ye see this skarf Sir?
By this hand I'le cry Brooms in't, birchen Brooms Sir,
Before I eat one bit from your benevolence.
Now to our old occupations again.
By your leave Lord. [Exeunt.

Bor. You will bite when ye are sharper; take up the mony.
This love I must remove, this fondness to him,
This tenderness of heart; I have lost my way else.
There is no sending man, they will not take it,
They are yet too full of pillage,
They'l dance for't ere't be long:
Come, bring it after.

Enter Duke.

Duke. How now, refus'd their mony?

Bor. Very bravely,
And stand upon such terms 'tis terrible.

Duke. Where's Archas?

Bor. He's retir'd Sir, to his house,
According to your pleasure, full of dutie
To outward shew: but what within—

Duke. Refuse it?

Bor. Most confidently: 'tis not your revenues
Can feed the[m] Sir, and yet they have found a General
That knows no ebbe of bountie: there they eat Sir,
And loath your invitations.

Duke. 'Tis not possible,
He's poor as they.

Bor. You'l find it otherwise.
Pray make your journey thither presently,
And as ye goe I'le open ye a wonder.
Good Sir this morning.

Duke. Follow me, I'le doe it. [Exeunt.

SCENA II.

Enter Olympia, Alinda, Burris, and Gentlewomen.

Olym. But do you think my Brother loves her?

Bur. Certain Madam,
He speaks much of her, and sometimes with wonder,
Oft wishes she were nobler born.

Olym. Do you think him honest?

Bur. Your Grace is nearer to his heart, than I am,
Upon my life I hold him so.

Olym. 'Tis a poor wench,
I would not have her wrong'd: methinks my Brother—
But I must not give rules to his affections;
Yet if he weigh her worth—

Bur. You need not fear Madam.

Olym. I hope I shall not: Lord Burris
I love her well; I know not, there is something
Makes me bestow more than a care upon her:
I do not like that ring from him to her;
I mean to women of her way, such tokens
Rather appear as baits, than royal bounties:
I would not have it so.

Bur. You will not find it,
Upon my troth I think his most ambition
Is but to let the world know h'as a handsom Mistris:
Will your grace command me any service to him?

Olym. Remember all my duty.

Bur. Blessings crown ye:
What's your will Lady?

Al. Any thing that's honest;
And if you think it fit, so poor a service,
Clad in a ragged vertue, may reach him,
I do beseech your Lordship speak it humbly.