Fr. R.  This murder canott bee so smothered upp
But I in th’end shall paye for’t; but feare still
Is wittye in prevention.  Nowe for instance
There’s but one refuge left mee, that’s to flye: 
The gates are shutt upon mee and myself
Am a badd foottman, yet these difficultyes
I can thus helpe; there to this place beelonges
A mare that every second d[a]yes’ imployde
To carry corne and fetch meele from the mill,
Distant som half league off; I by this beast
Will fashion myne escape.—­What, baker, ho!

Within Baker.  What’s hee that calls so early?

Fr. R.  I, Fryar Richard.

Baker.  What would you have that you are stirringe thus An hower before the Dawne.

Fr. Rich.  I cannott sleepe And understandinge there’s meale redy ground, Which thou must fetch this morninge from the mill, I’l save thee so much pey[n]es.  Lend mee the beast, And lett mee forthe the gate; I’l bringe boathe back Ere the bell ringe for mattens.

Baker.  Marry, Fryar Richard, With all my hart, and thanke yee.  I’l but ryse And halter her, then lett you forthe the gate; You’l save mee so much labour.

Fr. Rich.  This falls out As I coold wishe, and in a fortunate hower; For better then to too legges trust to fower.

Explicit Actus 4.

Act 5.

SCENE PRIMA.

    Enter Thomas Ashburne the younger brother to John,
    a merchant, with one of the Factors.[145]

Thomas.  Are all things safe abord?

Factor.  As you can wish, sir;
And notwithstandinge this combustious stryfe
Betwixt the winds and Seas, our ship still tight,
No anchor, cable, tackle, sayle or mast
Lost, though much daunger’d; all our damadge is
That where our puerpose was for Italy
We are driven into Marcellis.

Thomas.  That’s myne unhappines
That beinge come upon a brother’s quest
Longe absent from his country, who of late
After confinement, penury, distresse
Hath gained a hopefull fortune, and I travelling
To beare him tydeinges of a blest estate
Am in my voyage thwarted.

Factor.  In what province Resydes hee at this present?

Thomas.  His last letters
That I receav’d weare dated from Leagahorne;
Nowe wee by this infortnate storme are driven
Into Marcellis roads.

Factor.  For the small tyme Of our abode heare what intend you, Sir?

Thomas.  To take in victuall and refresh our men,
Provyde us of thinges needefull, then once more
With all the expeditious hast wee can
Sett sayle for Florens.

Factor.  Please you, Sir, I’l steward well that busines.

Thomas.  I’th meanetyme
I shall find leisure to surveigh the towne,
The keyes, the temples, forts and monuments;
For what’s the end of travell but to better us
In judgment and experiens?  What are these? 
Withdrawe and give them streete-roome.