Scene I. A sea-port in Cyprus. An open place near the quay.
Enter Montano and two Gentlemen.[5314]
Mon. What from the cape can you discern at sea?
First Gent. Nothing at all: it is a high-wrought flood;[5315]
I cannot, 'twixt the heaven and the main,[5316]
Descry a sail.[5317]
Mon. Methinks the wind hath spoke aloud at land;[5317][5318] 5
A fuller blast ne'er shook our battlements:[5317]
If it hath ruffian'd so upon the sea,[5317][5319]
What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them,[5317][5320]
Can hold the mortise? What shall we hear of this?[5317][5321]
Sec. Gent. A segregation of the Turkish fleet:[5322] 10
For do but stand upon the foaming shore,[5323]
The chidden billow seems to pelt the clouds;[5324]
The wind-shaked surge, with high and monstrous mane,[5325]
Seems to cast water on the burning bear,
And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole:[5326] 15
I never did like molestation view
On the enchafed flood.
Mon. If that the Turkish fleet[5327]
Be not enshelter'd and embay'd, they are drown'd;[5328]
It is impossible to bear it out.
Enter a third Gentleman.[5329]
Third Gent. News, lads! our wars are done.[5330][5331][5332] 20
The desperate tempest hath so bang'd the Turks,[5333]
That their designment halts: a noble ship of Venice[5334][5335]
Hath seen a grievous wreck and sufferance[5334][5336]
On most part of their fleet.[5337]
Mon. How! is this true?