_Den_. And then? _D'Av_. In these I'l arme the fryar from head to knee; Mount him into his saddle, with stronge cords There bind him fast, and to his gauntlet hand Fasten his lance; for basses[144] tis no matter, These his grey skyrts will serve. Thus arm'd, thus mounted, And thus accoutred, with his beiver upp, Turne him out of the gates, neither attended With squire or page, lyke a stronge knight adventures To seeke a desperate fortune. _Denis_. Hee may so if hee please Ryde post unto the Devill. _D'Av_. This I'l see doone, 'Tis a decree determinde. _Denis_. Capp a pe I'l see him arm'd and mounted. [_Exeunt_. _Enter Fryar Richard_. _Fr. R_. This murder canott bee so smothered upp But I in th'end shall paye for't; but feare still Is wittye in prevention. Nowe for instance There's but one refuge left mee, that's to flye: The gates are shutt upon mee and myself Am a badd foottman, yet these difficultyes I can thus helpe; there to this place beelonges A mare that every second d[a]yes' imployde To carry corne and fetch meele from the mill, Distant som half league off; I by this beast Will fashion myne escape.--What, baker, ho! _Within Baker_. What's hee that calls so early? _Fr. R_. I, Fryar _Richard_. _Baker_. What would you have that you are stirringe thus An hower before the Dawne. _Fr. Rich_. I cannott sleepe And understandinge there's meale redy ground, Which thou must fetch this morninge from the mill, I'l save thee so much pey[n]es. Lend mee the beast, And lett mee forthe the gate; I'l bringe boathe back Ere the bell ringe for mattens. _Baker_. Marry, Fryar _Richard_, With all my hart, and thanke yee. I'l but ryse And halter her, then lett you forthe the gate; You'l save mee so much labour. _Fr. Rich_. This falls out As I coold wishe, and in a fortunate hower; For better then to too legges trust to fower. _Explicit Actus 4_. _Act_ 5. SCENE PRIMA. _Enter Thomas Ashburne the younger brother to John, a merchant, with one of the Factors_.[145] _Thomas_. Are all things safe abord? _Factor_. As you can wish, sir; And notwithstandinge this combustious stryfe Betwixt the winds and Seas, our ship still tight, No anchor, cable, tackle, sayle or mast Lost, though much daunger'd; all our damadge is That where our puerpose was for _Italy_ We are driven into _Marcellis_. _Thomas_. That's myne unhappines That beinge come upon a brother's quest Longe absent from his country, who of late After confinement, penury, distresse Hath gained a hopefull fortune, and I travelling To beare him tydeinges of a blest estate Am in my voyage thwarted. _Factor_. In what province Resydes hee at this present? _Thomas_. His last letters That I receav'd weare dated from _Leagahorne_; Nowe wee by this infortnate storme are driven Into _Marcellis_ roads. _Factor_. For the small tyme Of our abode heare what intend you, Sir?