slavery can appear in such a form,
Which with a masculine constancy I will not
Boldly look on and suffer.

_Leop_. You mistake me:
That you are made my prisoner, may prove
The birth of your good fortune. I do find
A winning language in your tongue and looks;
Nor can a suit by you mov'd be deni'd,
And therefore of a prisoner you must be
The Victors advocate.

_Zen._ To whom?

_Leap._ A Lady:
In whom all graces that can perfect beauty
Are friendly met. I grant that you are fair:
And had I not seen her before, perhaps
I might have sought to you.

_Zen._ This I hear gladly.

_Leap._ To this incomparable Lady I will give you,
(Yet being mine, you are already hers)
And to serve her is more than to be free,
At least I think so; and when you live with her,
If you will please to think on him that brought you
To such a happiness, for so her bounty
Will make you think her service, you shall ever
Make me at your devotion.

_Zen._ All I can do,
Rest you assur'd of.

_Leap._ At night I'le present you,
Till when I am your Guard.

_Zen._ Ever your servant. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ Arnoldo _and_ Rutilio.

_Arn._ To what are we reserv'd?

_Rut._ Troth 'tis uncertain,
Drowning we have scap'd miraculously, and
Stand fair for ought I know for hanging; mony
We have none, nor e're are like to have,
'Tis to be doubted: besides we are strangers,
Wondrous hungry strangers; and charity
Growing cold, and miracles ceasing,
Without a Conjurers help, cannot find
When we shall eat again.

_Arn._ These are no wants
If put in ballance with _Zenocias_ loss;
In that alone all miseries are spoken:
O my _Rutilio_, when I think on her,
And that which she may suffer, being a Captive,
Then I could curse my self, almost those powers
That send me from the fury of the Ocean.

_Rut_. You have lost a wife indeed, a fair and chast one,
Two blessings, not found often in one woman;
But she may be recovered, questionless
The ship that took us was of _Portugal_,
And here in _Lisbon_, by some means or other
We may hear of her.

_Arn_. In that hope I live.

_Rut_. And so do I, but hope is a poor Sallad
To dine and sup with, after a two dayes fast too,
Have you no mony left?

_Arn_. Not a Denier.

_Rut_. Nor any thing to pawn? 'tis now in fashion,
Having a Mistress, sure you should not be
Without a neat Historical shirt.

_Arn_. For shame
Talk not so poorly.

_Rut_. I must talk of that
Necessity prompts us to, for beg