Page:Works of Sir John Suckling.djvu/189

] They seldom take away, but with exchange;

And to the poor they often give; return

The hurt and sick recover'd;

Reward or punish, as they do find cause.

Orsabrin. How, cause?

Samorat. Why, sir, they blind still those they take,

And make them tell the stories of their lives;

Which known, they do accordingly.

Orsabrin. You make me wonder, sir.

How long is't since they thus have troubled you?

Samorat. It was immediately upon

The great deciding day, fought 'twixt the two

Pretending families, the Tamorens

And the Orsabrins.

Orsabrin. Ha! Orsabrin?

Samorat. But, sir, that story's sad and tedious:

W'are ent'ring now the town, a place less safe

Than were the woods, since Torcular is slain.

Orsabrin. How, sir?

Samorat. Yes.

He was the brother to the Prince's mistress;

The lov'd one too.

If we do prize ourselves at any rate,

We must embark, and change the clime: there is

No safety here.

Orsabrin. Hum!

Samorat. The little stay we make,

Must be in some dark corner of the town;

From whence, the day hurried to th' other world.

We'll sally out, to order for our journey.

That I am forc'd to this, it grieves me not;

But, gentle youth, that you should for my sake

Orsabrin. Sir,

Lose not a thought on that: a storm at sea

Threw me on land, and now a storm on land

Drives me to sea again.

Samorat. Still noble!

Nassurat. Why, suppose 'tis to a wench, you would not go with me, would you?

Pellegrin. To choose—to choose!