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And with a dropping industry they skip

From stem to stern: the boatswain whistles, and

The master calls, and trebles their confusion.

Leon. Come; say your prayers.

Mar. "What mean you?

Leon. If you require a little space for prayer,
I grant it. Pray; but be not tedious,
For the gods are quick of ear, and I am sworn
To do my work with haste.

Mar. Why will you kill me?

Leon. To satisfy my lady.

Mar. Why would she have me kill'd?
Now as I can remember, by my troth,
I never did her hurt in all my life.
I never spake bad word, nor did ill turn
To any living creature: believe me, la,
I never kill'd a mouse, nor hurt a fly:
I trod upon a worm against my will,
But I wept for it. How have I offended,
Wherein my death might yield her profit, or
My life imply her any danger?

Leon. My commission

Is not to reason of the deed, but do it.

Mar. You will not do 't for all the world, I hope. You are well favour'd, and your looks foreshew You have a gentle heart. I saw you lately, When you caught hurt in parting two that fought: Good sooth, it shew'd well in you: do so now: Your lady seeks my life; come you between, And save poor me, the weaker.

Leon. I am sworn,

A.nd will dispatch.

Enter Pirates, whilst Marina is struggling. 1 Pirate. Hold, villain! [leonine runs away. 2 Pirate. A prize! a prize!

3 Pirate. Half-part, mates, half-part. Come, let's have her aboard suddenly.

[Exeunt Pirates with Marina.

[Scene II. — Malone.]

Leonine returns.

Leon. These roguing thieves serve the great pirate Valdes; And they have seiz'd Marina. Let her go: There's no hope she'll return. I'll swear she's dead, And thrown into the sea.—-But I'll see farther; Perhaps they will but please themselves upon her, Not carry her aboard. If she remain, Whom they have ravish'd must by me be slain. [Exit.

Scene II.

[Scene III. —Malone.]

Mitylene. A Eoom in a Brothel.

Enter Pander, Bawd, and Botjlt,

Pander. Boult.

Boult. Sir.

Pand. Search the market narrowly; Mitylene is full of gallants: we lost too much money this mart, by being too wenchless.

Baivd. We were never so much out of creatures. We have but poor three, and they can do no more than they can do; and they with continual action are even as good as rotten.

Pand. Therefore, let's have fresh ones, whate'er we pay for them. If there be not a conscience to be used in every trade, we shall never prosper.

Bawd. Thou say'st true: 'tis not the bringing up of poor bastards, as, I think, I have brought up some aieven

Boult. Ay, to a leaven; and brought them down again. But shall I search the market?

Bawd. What else, man? The stuff we have, a strong wind will blow it to pieces, they are so pitifully sodden.

Band. Thou say'st true; they're too unwholesome o' conscience. The poor Transylvanian is dead, that lay with the little baggage.

Boult. Ay, she quickly poop'd him; she made him roast-meat for worms. But I'll go search the market.

[Exit Boult.

Band. Three or four thousand chequins were as pretty a proportion to live quietly, and so give over —

Baivd. Why to give over, I pray you? is it a shame to get when we are old?

Band. 0, our credit comes not in like the commodity; nor the commodity wages not with the danger: therefore, if in our youths we could pick up some pretty estate, 'twere not amiss to keep our door hatch'd. Besides, the sore terms we stand upon with the gods will be strong with us for giving over.

Bawd. Come; other sorts offend as well as we.

Band. As well as we? ay, and better too; we offend worse. Neither is our profession any trade; it's no calling. But here comes Boult.

Enter Boult, and the Pirates with Marina. Boult. Come your ways. My masters, you say she's a virgin?

1 Birate. O, sir, we doubt it not.

Boult. Master, I have gone thorough for this piece, you see: if you like her, so; if not, I have lost my earnest.

Bawd. Boult, has she any qualities?

Boult. She has a good face, speaks well, and has excellent good clothes: there's no farther necessity of qualities can make her be refus'd.

Bawd, What's her price, Boult?

Boult. I cannot be bated one doit of a thousand pieces.

Band. Well, follow me, my masters ; you shall have your money presently. Wife, take her in: instruct her what she has to do, that she may not be raw in her entertainment. [Exeunt Pander and Pirates.

Bawd. Boult, take you the marks of her; the colour of her hair, complexion, height, her age, with warrant of her virginity, and cry, "He that will give most shall have her first." Such a maidenhead were no cheap thing, if men were as they have been. Get this done as I command you.

Boult. Performance shall follow. [Exit Bottlt.

Mar. Alack, that Leonine was so slack, so slow S — He should have struck, not spoke ; — or that these

pirates (Not enough barbarous) had not o'erboard thrown me For to seek my mother!

Bawd. Why lament you, pretty one?

Mar. That I am pretty.

Bawd. Come, the gods have done their part in you.

Mar. I accuse them not.

Bawd. You are lit into my hands, where you are like to live.

Mar. The more my fault,
To 'scape his hands where I was like to die.

Bawd. Ay, and you shall live in pleasure.

Mar. No.

Bawd. Yes, indeed, shall you, and taste gentlemen of all fashions. You shall fare well: you shall have the difference of all complexions. What! do you stop your ears?

Mar. Are you a woman?

Bawd. What would you have me be, an I be not a woman?

Mar. An honest woman, or not a woman.

Bawd. Marry, whip thee, gosling: I think I shall have something to do with you. Come, you are a young foolish sapling, and must be bow'd as I would have you.

Mar. The gods defend me!

Bawd. If it please the gods to defend you by men, then men must comfort you, men must feed you, men stir you up. — Boult's returned.

Enter Boult.

Now, sir, hast thou cried her through the market?

Boult. I have cried her almost to the number of her hairs: I have drawn her picture with my voice.

Bawd. And I pr'ythee, tell me, how dost thou find the inclination of the people, especially of the younger sort?

Boult. Faith, they listen'd to me as they would have hearken'd to their father's testament. There was a Spaniard's mouth so water'd, that he went to bed to her very description.

Bawd. We shall have him here to-morrow with his best ruff on.

Boult. To-night, to-night. But, mistress, do you know the French knight that cowers i' the hams?

Bawd. Who? Monsieur Veroles?

Boult. Ay: he offered to cut a caper at the proc

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