Ros. So soon return'd!

      Alb. Here: see the Idol of the Lapidary.

      Ti. These Pearls, for which the slavish Negro

      Dives to the bottom of the Sea.

      Lam. To get which the industrious Merchant

      Touches at either pole.

      Fran. The never-fayling purchase

      Of Lordships, and of honors.

      Mor. The Worlds Mistriss,

      That can give every thing to the possessors.

      Ma. For which the Saylors scorn tempestuous Winds.

      And spit defiance in the Sea.

      Ti. Speak Lady: Look we not lovely now?

      Ros. Yes, yes, O my Stars,

      Be now for ever blest, that have brought

      To my revenge these Robbers; take your arrowes,

      And nayl these Monsters to the earth.

      Alb. What mean ye Lady?

      In what have we offended?

      Ros. O my daughter!

      And you companions with me in all fortunes,

      Look on these Caskets, and these Jewels,

      These were our own, when first we put to Sea

      With good Sebastian: and these the Pyrats

      That not alone depriv'd him of this treasure,

      But also took his life.

      Cro. Part of my present

      I will remember was mine own.

      Hip. And these were mine.

      Ju. Sure, I have worn this Jewel.

      Ros. Wherefore do ye stay then,

      And not perform my command?

      Al. O Heaven!

      What cruel fate pursues us.

      Ti. I am well enough serv'd,

      That must be off'ring Joyntures, Jewels,

      And precious stones, more than I brought with me.

      Ros. Why shoot ye not?

      Cla. Hear me dear Mother;

      And when the greatest cruelty, is Justice,

      Do not shew mercy: death to these starv'd wretches

      Is a reward, not punishment: let 'em live

      To undergoe the full weight of your displeasure.

      And that they may have sence to feel the torments

      They have deserv'd: allow 'em some small pittance,

      To linger out their tortures.

      Ros. 'Tis well counsell'd.

      All. And wee'll follow it.

      Alb. Hear us speak.

      Ros. Peace dogs.

      Bind 'em fast: when fury hath given way to reason,

      I will determine of their sufferings,

      Which shall be horrid. Vengeance, though slow pac'd,

      At length o'rtakes the guilty; and the wrath

      Of the incensed powers, will fall most sure

      On wicked men, when they are most secure.

      1 Sayl.

      Here's nothing, Sir, but poverty and hunger;

      No promise of inhabitance; neither track

      of Beast,

      Nor foot of Man: we have searcht

      All this Rocky desart, yet cannot discover any assurance

      Here is, or hath been such men.

      2 Sayl. Not a relique of any thing they wore;

      Nor mark left by 'em, either to find relief,

      Or to warn others from the like misfortune.

      Believe it, these fellows are both false,

      And, to get a little succor in their misery,

      Have fram'd this cunning Tale.

      Ray. The Ship, I know, is French, and own'd by Pirats,

      If not by Albert my arch enemy.

      You told me too there was a woman with 'em.

      A young and handsome Woman.

      Sebast. There was so Sir.

      Raym. And such, and such young gallants.

      Nic. We told you true, Sir,

      That they had no means to quit this Island.

      Raym. And that amidst their mutiny to save your lives,

      You got their Ship.

      Sebast. All is most certain, Sir.

      Raym. Where are they then? Where are these Men

      Or Woman? we are landed where your faiths

      Did assure us, we could not miss their sights.

      For this news we took ye to our mercy,

      Reliev'd ye, when the furious Sea, and Famine

      Strove, which should first devour ye;

      Cloath'd, and cherisht ye; us'd ye as those ye say ye are.

      Fair Gentlemen, now keep your words,

      And shew us this company, your own free pitties spoke of;

      These men ye left in misery; the Woman.

      Men of those noble breedings you pretend to

      Should scorn to lie, or get their food with falshood;

      Come, direct us.

      Sebast. Alass, Sir, they are gone,

      But by what means, or providence, we know not.

      2 Sayl. Was not the Captain

      A fellow of a fiery, yet brave nature,

      A middle stature, and of brown complexion?

      Nic. He was, Sir.

      Raym. 'Twas Albert,

      And my poor wretched sister.

      1 Sayl. 'Twas he certain,

      I ha been at Sea with him; many times at Sea.

      Raym.