_Cæsar._ How? In a tempest? _Sailor._ No Sir, in a calm, Calm as this evening; the Gunner being drunk, Forgot to fasten the Ordnance to their ports, When came a sudden gust, which tumbled them All to the Starboord side, o'erturn'd the Ship, And sunk her in a moment, some six men That were upon the deck were sav'd: the rest Perish'd with your Father. _Claris._ O my dearest Father-- _Cesar._ I pray thee leave us. _Maria._ I have a sorrow of another nature, equal to the former. _Cesar._ And most commonly they come together. _Maria._ The Family of the _Baptisti_ Are grown to faction, and upon distast Of the injury late offer'd in my house, Have vow'd a most severe, and fell revenge 'Gainst all our family, but especially 'Gainst you my dear _Cæsario_. _Cæsar._ Let them threat, I am prepar'd to oppose them. _Maria._ And is your loss then Of so easie an estimation? What comfort Have I but in your life, and your late danger Presents afore me what I am to suffer, Should you miscarry; therefore I'll advise you When the Funeral is over, you would travel, Both to prevent their fury, and wear out th' injury. _Cæsar._ No Mother, I will not travel, So in my absence he may marry my Sister, I will not travel certain. _Maria._ O my _Cesario_, Whom I respect and love 'bove my own life, Indeed with a kind of dotage, he shall never Go forth o' doors, but the contrary faction Will indanger's life, and then am I most wretched. I am thinking of a strange prevention, Which I shall witness with a bleeding eye, Fondness sometimes is worse than cruelty.-- [_Exeunt._ Actus Tertius. Scæna Prima. _Enter_ Host, Hostess, _and_ Bianca. _Host._ Haunted, my house is haunted with goblins. I shall be frighted out of my wits, and set up a sign only to invite Carriers and Foot-posts; scar-crows to keep off the Cavalry, and Gentry of the best rank. I will nail up my doors, and wall up my Girle (wife) like an Anchoress; or she will be ravisht before our faces, by rascalls and cacafugo's (wife) cacafugo's. _Hostess._ These are your In-comes, remember your own proverb, the savor of every gain smelt sweet; thank no body but your self for this trouble. _Host._ No gauling (dear Spouse) no gauling, every days new vexation abates me two inches in the waste, terrible pennance for an Host, Girle, girle, girle, Which of all this gally-maufry of Mans flesh appears tolerable to thy choice; speak shortly, and speak truely: I must and will know, must and will; Hear ye that?