Mich. Ha! 'tis not much unlike him.
Fran. May I have passage for my money?
Sayl. And welcome too.
Mich. 'Tis he, I know 'tis he now.
Fran. Then merrily aboard, and noble friend,
Heavens goodness keep thee ever, and all vertue
Dwell in thy bosome, Cellide, my last tears
I leave behind me thus, a sacrifice,
For I dare stay no longer to betray ye.
Mich. Be not so quick, Sir; Saylers I here charge ye
By virtue of this Warrant, as you will answer it,
For both your Ship and Merchant I know perfectly,
Lay hold upon this fellow.
Fran. Fellow?
Mich. I, Sir.
Sayl. No hand to Sword, Sir, we shall master ye,
Fetch out the manacles.
Fran. I do obey ye;
But I beseech you, Sir, inform me truly
How I am guilty.