_Enter_ Frederick.
_Fred._ Sure he's gone home:
I have beaten all the purlews,
But cannot bolt him: if he be a bobbing,
'Tis not my care can cure him: To morrow morning
I shall have further knowledge from a Surgeon's--
Where he lyes moor'd, to mend his leaks.
_Enter_ Constantia.
_Con._ I'm ready,
And through a world of dangers am flown to ye.
Be full of haste and care, we are undone else:
Where are your people? which way must we travel?
For Heaven sake stay not here Sir.
_Fred._ What may this prove?
_Con._ Alas I am mistaken, lost, undone,
For ever perish'd. Sir, for Heaven sake tell me,
Are ye a Gentleman?
_Fred._ I am.
_Con._ Of this place?
_Fred._ No, born in _Spain_.
_Con._ As ever you lov'd honour,
As ever your desires may gain their ends,
Do a poor wretched woman but this benefit,
For I am forc'd to trust ye.
_Fred._ Y'ave charm'd me,
Humanity and honour bids me help ye;
And if I fail your trust.--
_Con._ The time's too dangerous
To stay your protestations: I believe ye,
Alas, I must believe ye: From this place,
Good noble Sir, remove me instantly,
And for a time, where nothing but your self,
And honest conversation may come near me,
In some secure place se[t]tle me: what I am
And why thus boldly I commit my credit
Into a strangers hand, the fears and dangers,
That force me to this wild course, at more leisure
I shall reveal unto you.
_Fred._ Come, be hearty,
He must strike through my life that takes ye from me. [_Exeunt._