Scene IV Fayal
Enter two Sailors.
1st Sailor.
Aboard, aboard! the wind stands fair for England;
The ships have all weighed anchor.
2nd Sailor.
A stiff gale
Blows from the shore.
Enter Captain Goodlack.
Goodlack.
The sailors call aboard, and I am forced
To leave my friend now at the point of death,
And cannot close his eyes. Here is the will.
Now may I find yon tanner’s daughter turned
Unchaste or wanton, I shall gain by it
Five hundred pounds a year. Here is good evidence.
1st Sailor.
Sir, will you take the long-boat and aboard?
Enter a third Sailor.
Goodlack.
With all my heart.
3rd Sailor.
What, are you ready, mates?
1st Sailor.
We stayed for you. Thou canst not tell who’s dead?
The great bell rung out now.
3rd Sailor.
They say ’twas for one Spencer, who this night
Died of a mortal wound.
Goodlack.
My worthy friend:
Unhappy man, that cannot stay behind,
To do him his last rites!—Was his name Spencer?
3rd Sailor.
Yes, sir; a gentleman of good account,
And well known in the navy.
Goodlack.
This is the end of all mortality.
It will be news unpleasing to his Bess.
I cannot fare amiss, but long to see
Whether these lands belong to her or me.
Enter Spencer and Surgeon.
Surgeon.
Nay, fear not, sir: now you have scaped this dressing,
My life for yours.
Spencer.
I thank thee, honest friend.
Surgeon.
Sir, I can tell you news.
Spencer.
What is’t, I prithee?
Surgeon.
There is a gentleman, one of your name,
That died within this hour.
Spencer.
My name! What was he? Of what sickness died he?
Surgeon.
No sickness, but a slight hurt in the body,
Which showed at first no danger, but, being searched,
He died at the third dressing.
Spencer.
At my third search I am in hope of life.
The Heavens are merciful.
Surgeon.
Sir, doubt not your recovery.
Spencer.
That hundred pound I had prepared to expend
Upon mine own expected funeral,
I for name-sake will now bestow on his.
Surgeon.
A noble resolution.
Spencer.
What ships are bound for England? I would gladly
Venture to sea, though weak.
Surgeon.
All bound that way are under sail already.
Spencer.
Here’s no security;
For when the beaten Spaniards shall return,
They’ll spoil whom they can find.
Surgeon.
We have a ship,
Of which I am surgeon, that belongs unto
A London merchant, now bound for Mamorah,
A town in Barbary; please you to use that,
You shall command free passage: ten months hence,
We hope to visit England.
Spencer.
Friend, I thank thee.
Surgeon.
I’ll bring you to the master, who I know
Will entertain you gladly.
Spencer.
When I have seen the funeral rites performed
To the dead body of my countryman
And kinsman, I will take your courteous offer.
England, no doubt, will hear news of my death;
How Bess will take it is to me unknown.
On her behaviour I will build my fate,
There raise my love, or thence erect my hate.
[Exeunt.