SCENE I. Kent. The sea-shore near Dover. Firing heard at sea. Then enter, from a boat, a Captain, a Master, a Master's-Mate, WALTER WHITMORE, and others; with them SUFFOLK disguised, and others, prisoners.

Cap. The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful1 day

Is crept into the bosom of the sea; [And now loud-howling wolves arouse the jades 2

That drag the tragic melancholy night;

Who, with their drowsy, slow, and flagging wings,

Clip3 dead men's graves, and from their misty jaws

Breathe foul contagious darkness in the air.] Therefore bring forth the soldiers of our prize; For, whilst our pinnace anchors in the Downs, Here shall they make their ransom on the sand,

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