2. Nay, I assure you
Our shipps wilbe fast bound by _Spanish_ charmes
Not to get hence in hast.

1. The Divell allready
Is furling up the sayles; would all the sackes
Which we have bought for _England_ were in _Devonshire_
Turnd to small Beere, so we were but in _Tavistocke_
To see it drawne out; were it nere so thin
I'de drink a health to all the Dons in _Sherryes_
And cry a pox upon 'em.

2. That word heard
By any lowsy _Spanish_ Picardo[8]
Were worth our two neckes. Ile not curse my Diegoes
But wish with all my heart that a faire wind
May with great Bellyes blesse our _English_ sayles
Both out and in; and that the whole fleete may
Be at home delivered of no worse a conquest
Then the last noble voyage made to this Citty,
Though all the wines and merchandize I have here
Were ith' Seas bottome.

1. Troth, so would I mine.

2. I nere could tell yet from what roote this huge
Large spreading Tree of hate from _Spayne_ to us,
From us agayne to _Spayne_, took the first growth.

1. No? then lie tell you: let us season our sorrow