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E. By Cairo [29] runs-- ALMEDA. No talk of running, I tell you, sir. CALLAPINE. A little further, gentle Almeda. ALMEDA. Well, sir, what of this? CALLAPINE. By Cairo runs to Alexandria-bay Darotes' stream, [30] wherein at [31] anchor lies A Turkish galley of my royal fleet, Waiting my coming to the river-side, Hoping by some means I shall be releas'd; Which, when I come aboard, will hoist up sail, And soon put forth into the Terrene [32] sea, Where, [33] 'twixt the isles of Cyprus and of Crete, We quickly may in Turkish seas arrive. Then shalt thou see a hundred kings and more, Upon their knees, all bid me welcome home. Amongst so many crowns of burnish'd gold, Choose which thou wilt, all are at thy command: A thousand galleys, mann'd with Christian slaves, I freely give thee, which shall cut the Straits, And bring armadoes, from [34] the coasts of Spain, Fraughted with gold of rich America: The Grecian virgins shall attend on thee, Skilful in music and in amorous lays, As fair as was Pygmalion's ivory girl Or lovely Io metamorphosed: With naked negroes shall thy coach be drawn, And, as thou rid'st in triumph through the streets, The pavement underneath thy chariot-wheels With Turkey-carpets shall be covered, And cloth of arras hung about the walls, Fit objects for thy princely eye to pierce: A hundred bassoes, cloth'd in crimson silk, Shall ride before thee on Barbarian steeds; And, when thou goest, a golden canopy Enchas'd with precious stones, which shine as bright As that fair veil that covers all the world, When Phoebus, leaping from his hemisphere, Descendeth downward to th' Antipodes:-- And more than this, for all I cannot tell. ALMEDA. How far hence lies the galley, say you? CALLAPINE. Sweet Almeda, scarce half a league from hence. ALMEDA. But need [35] we not be spied going aboard? CALLAPINE. Betwixt the hollow hanging of a hill, And crooked bending of a craggy rock, The sails wrapt up, the mast and tacklings down, She lies so close that none can find her out. ALMEDA. I like that well: but, tell me, my lord, if I should let you go, would you be as good as your word? shall I be made a king for my labour? CALLAPINE. As I am Calla
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