MONTANO.
Is he well shipp’d?
CASSIO.
His bark is stoutly timber’d, and his pilot
Of very expert and approv’d allowance;
Therefore my hopes, not surfeited to death,
Stand in bold cure.
[Within.] A sail, a sail, a sail!
Enter a Messenger.
CASSIO.
What noise?
MESSENGER.
The town is empty; on the brow o’ the sea
Stand ranks of people, and they cry “A sail!”
CASSIO.
My hopes do shape him for the governor.
[A shot.]
SECOND GENTLEMAN.
They do discharge their shot of courtesy.
Our friends at least.
CASSIO.
I pray you, sir, go forth,
And give us truth who ’tis that is arriv’d.