as, poore _Pike_, I thinke thy pate holds no more pollicy than a
Pollax.

_Hill_. Who is more expert in any quality then he that hath it at his
fingers ends; & if he have more pollicy in his braines then dirt under
his nayles Ile nere give 2 groates for a Calves head. But without all
question he hath done some excellent piece of villany among the Diegoes,
or else they take him for a fatter sheep to kill then he is.

_Cap_. Well, gentlemen, we all can but condole the losse of him; and
though all that we all come hither for be not worth him, yet we must be
content to leave him. The fleete is ready, the wind faire, and we must
expect him no longer.

_Hill_. He was a true _Devonshire_ blade.

_Sec_. My Countryman, sir: therefore would I have given the price of a
hundred of the best Toledoes rather then heare the misse of him at home
complayned by his Wife and Children.

_Jew_. Your tendernes becomes you, sir, but not the time, which wafts us
hence to shun a greater danger.

_Exeunt_.

(SCENE 2.)

_Enter Pike in shackles, nightcap, playsters on his face; a Jaylor_.

_Pike_. The fleete is gone & I have now no hope of liberty; yet I am
well refreshd in the care hath bene taken for my cure. But was ever
_English_ horse thus _Spanish_ bitted & bossd![26]

_Jay_. Sir, the care of your keeper, by whom this ease hath been
procured, requires remuneration.

_Pike_. Here's for you, my frend.

_Jay_. I assure you, the best Surgeons this part of _Spaine_ affoords,
through my care taken of you; & you may thanke me.

_Pike_. What an arrogant rascall's this!--Sir, I thought my thankes
herein had chiefly appertaind to the humanity of the Governour, & that
your especiall care had bene in providing these necessary shackles to
keepe me from running into further danger: these I tooke to be the
strong bonds of your frendship.

_Jay_. Sir, I hope they fitt you as well as if they had bene made for
you. Oh, I am so much your servant that I doe wish 'em stronger for your
sake.

_Pike_. 'Tis overwell as it is, sir.

_Jay_. You are most curteous. [_Exit_.

_Pike_. A precious rogue! If the Jaylors be so pregnant what is the
hangman, troe? By the time my misery hath brought me to climbe to his
acquaintance I shall find a frend to the last gaspe. What's here? a
Lady? are the weomen so cruell here to insult ore Captive wretches.

_Enter Catelyna & Jaylor_.

_Cat_. Is this the En