Will. Brother John Bates, is not that the morning which breaks yonder?
Bates. I think it be: but we have no great cause to desire the approach of day.
Will. We see yonder the beginning of the day, but, I think, we shall never see the end of it.—Who goes there?
K. Hen. A friend.
Comes down, R.
Will. Under what captain serve you?
K. Hen. Under Sir Thomas Erpingham.
Will. A good old commander, and a most kind gentleman: I pray you, what thinks he of our estate?
K. Hen. Even as men wrecked upon a sand, that look to be washed off the next tide.
Bates. (L.) He hath not told his thought to the king?