1233I haue togeather with my practize, made famyliar,

1234To me and to my ayde, the blest infusions that dwels

1235In Vegetiues, in Mettals, Stones: and can speake of the

1236Disturbances that Nature works, and of her cures;

1237which doth giue me a more content in course of true delight

1238Then to be thirsty after tottering honour, or

1239Tie my pleasure vp in silken Bagges,

1240To please the Foole and Death.

12412. Gent. Your honour has through Ephesus,

1242Poured foorth your charitie, and hundreds call themselues,

1243Your Creatures; who by you, haue been restored;

1244And not your knowledge, your personall payne,

1245But euen your Purse still open, hath built Lord Cerimon,

1246Such strong renowne, as time shall neuer.

1248Seru. So, lift there.

1249Cer. What's that?

1250Ser. Sir, euen now did the sea tosse vp vpon our shore

1251This Chist; tis of some wracke.

1252Cer. Set't downe, let's looke vpon't.

12532.Gent. T'is like a Coffin, sir.

1254Cer. What ere it be, t'is woondrous heauie;

1255Wrench it open straight:

1256If the Seas stomacke be orecharg'd with Gold,

1257T'is a good constraint of Fortune it belches vpon vs.

12582.Gent. T'is so, my Lord.

1259 Cer. How close tis caulkt & bottomed, did the sea cast it vp?

1260Ser. I neuer saw so huge a billow sir, as tost it vpon shore.

1261Cer. Wrench it open soft; it smels most sweetly in my sense.

12622.Gent. A delicate Odour.

1263Cer. As euer hit my nostrill: so, vp with it.

1264Oh you most potent Gods! what's here, a Corse?

12652.Gent. Most strange.

1266Cer. Shrowded in Cloth of state, balmed and entreasured

1267with full bagges of Spices, a Pasport to Apollo, perfect mee

1268in the Characters: