That I have much ado to know myself.
Salar. Your mind is tossing on the ocean;
There, where your argosies with portly sail,
[010] Like signiors and rich burghers on the flood,
Or, as it were, the pageants of the sea,
Do overpeer the petty traffickers,
[013] That curt’sy to them, do them reverence,
As they fly by them with their woven wings.
015 Salan. Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth,
The better part of my affections would