So weake my powres, so sore my wounds, appear, That wonder is how I should live a iot, Seeing my hart through-launced every where With thousand arrowes which your eies have shot.

So that the first washeth ouer the barke, from stemme to sterne, the second is not so furious as the first, and the thirde rayseth the Anker, and then for the space of sixe houres while the water encreaseth, they rowe with such swiftnesse that you would thinke they did fly: in these tydes there must be lost no iot of time, for if you arriue not at the stagions before the tyde be spent, you must turne back from whence you came.