2. St. George for England!

1.  And St. George we cryde,
Albeit, we heard, the Spanish Inquisition
Was aboord every ship with torture, torments,
Whipps strung with wyre, and knives to cutt our throates. 
But from the armed winds an hoast brake forth
Which tare their shipps and sav’d ours.—­Thus I have read
Two storyes to you; one, why Spayne hates us,
T’other why we love not them.

2.  Oh, sir, I thank you.

[Exeunt.

SCENE 3.

Ent.  Teniente, Don John, Henrico.

Ten.  I ever feard some ill fate pointed at This Citty.

Jo.  Makes the fleete this way?

Hen. Buzzano!

Ten.  I did dreame every night of’t, and the Ravens With their unlucky throates never leave croaking Some danger to us all.

Hen.  Where’s Buzzano?  Villaine!

Jo.  Be not discomforted.

Ten.  Don Fernando, too,
Hath cut our strength off, taken away our swords
Should save our throates.  I did preiudicate
Too rashly of the English; now we may
Yield up the Towne.—­Sirra, get you up to th’highest Enter Buzzano. 
Turret, that lookes three leagues into the Sea,
And tell us what you can discover there.

Buz.  Why, I can tell you ere I goe.

Hen.  What?

Buz.  Why there are fishes and shipps too in the sea; they were made for that purpose.

Ten.  The fellow doates? climbe quickly, sirra, and tell us Whither any bend to this place:  there’s a fleete Abroad; skud, rascall.

Hen.  Villayne, away; and cast your eyes into the Sea.

Buz.  Ile be hangd first; some wiser then some:  mine Eyes into the Sea?  I see no reason for’t.

Ten.  Why stayest thou?—­this slave is without sence.  Get up and see, and report the truth.

Buz.  Thats another matter:  I will orelooke you all presently.
          
                                              [Exit.

Jo.  What were I best to doe?  I doe not like these Navyes.

Hen.  ’Tis past question, If they were kenn’d this way, that they intend To make another meale of this Citty.

Ten.  The first was but a Breakfast:  they have shrewd stomakes. 
Oh for a lusty storme to bury all
Their hopes in the waves now! one good swelling Gust
Would breake their ribbs in pieces.

Jo.  No witches abroad?

Buz.  I see, I see, I see!

    Enter Buzzano above.

All.  What?