Jo. 'Tis the fleete: come they this way?
Buz. Yes, th'are ships; I know 'em by their foule linen; now I see them plainely; they come, they come, they come!
Hen. How far off?
Ten. Speake, sirra.
Buz. If you would peace I might heare what they say; the wind serves to bring every word they speake: they make towards, yes, towards this Citty. A great fleete! stay, stay, look to your selves, Don: they spitt fire allready, and have hung up a thousand flaggs of defyance. They are at the fort, the castle, at the castle: would I were pelted to death with Oranges and Lymons.
Ten. Here comes Don Fernando. What newes?
Enter Fernando with Eleonora.
Fer. Assured danger, gentlemen, for all our men
Already are in a palsye and doe flye
They know not whither. They are English:
The Citty's allmost desperate.
Ten. Don John, come with me And helpe to encourage the remayning soldiers.
Fer. New supply shall quickly cheare you hearts.— Henrico!