hou namest have place in us,
Great'st part if not all.

_Clowne_. Then lend your helpeinge hands to succor, releive, defend,
deliver, save, serve, patronadge, abett and mynteyn--

_Ashb_. Whom, what?

_Clowne_. Bewty, vertue, purity, syncerity, softnes, sweetenes,
innocens, and chastity.

_Ashb_. Gainst what? gainst whome?

_Cl_. Oppression, frawde, rudenes, reproch, synn, shame, debate,
discourse, theft, rapine, contempt of religion and breach of sanctury,
against a magazine of misdemeanors and a whole monopoly of mischeif.

_Godf_. I knowe the busines, syr, if in that place
These are the too distressed wrecks at sea
We sawe this morninge floatinge, sweeter guerles
I never yet sett ey on, and opprest
By too ill lookeinge raskells that to warme them
Wisht all the towne a bonefire--

_Ashb_. Miscreant slaves!
For one younge damsell's sake I once cald daughter,
And in the absens of there greater frends,
I'l stand betwixt them and these injuryes.

_Clowne_. These are they after whome I have been seeking, and my mayster
was enquiringe. If you will but secure them heare in the villadge whilst
I carry woord to my mayster in the citty, you shall doo me a curtesye
and him a most noble offyce.[103]

_Ashb_. It was no more then promisse, and I shoold
Fayle in my goodnes not to see that doone.
Post to thy mayster, bid him meete us heare:
Mean tyme my menn shall rayse the villagers
Boathe in the reskewe of these innocent maydes
And in defens of holly priveledge.

_Clowne_. I fly lyke the winds.

_Godf_. And I'l go call the pesants
To rayse another tempest.

[_Exeunt[104] Clown and Godfrey_.

_Ashb_. Hasten boathe
And till ayde com I'l laye myne eare and listen
To heare what further coyle is kept within:
All's silent on the sudden.
_Musick_.

[_Song within_.]

(1) Helpe, Helpe, oh ayde a wretched mayde
or els we are undoon then.

(2) And have I caught, and have I caught you?
in vayne it is to roonne then.

(1) Som reskewe then[105] from gods or men
redeeme us from these crosses!

(2) Tis all in vayne, since nowe I gaine
part of my former losses.

(1) Oh heaven, defend! what, yet no end
of these our strange desasters?

(2) No favour's knowne, no pittye's showne
to them that fly there maysters.

(1) Why to defame, reproch, and shame
poor innocents thus dragge yee?

(2) With[106] your offens there's no d