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.
Enter Raphael, Treadeway and the Clowne.