_Buz_. Thats another matter: I will orelooke you all presently.
[_Exit_.

_Jo_. What were I best to doe? I doe not like these Navyes.

_Hen_. 'Tis past question,
If they were kenn'd this way, that they intend
To make another meale of this Citty.

_Ten_. The first was but a Breakfast: they have shrewd stomakes.
Oh for a lusty storme to bury all
Their hopes in the waves now! one good swelling Gust
Would breake their ribbs in pieces.

_Jo_. No witches abroad?

_Buz_. I see, I see, I see!

_Enter Buzzano above_.

_All_. What?

_Buz_. Nay, I cannot tell what yet:
Something it is; I thinke it be a Towne.

_Hen_. Some Iland in the Sea!

_Buz_. It swims on the water.