SCENE IV.

_Enter_ Goswin _and_ Gertrude.

_Ger._ Indeed you're welcome: I have heard your scape, And therefore give her leave, that only loves you; (Truly and dearly loves you) give her joy leave To bid you welcome: what is't makes you sad man? Why do you look so wild? Is't I offend you? Beshrew my heart, not willingly.

_Gos._ No, _Gertrude_.

_Ger._ Is't the delay of that ye long have look'd for, A happy marriage? now I come to urge it. Now when you please to finish it?

_Gos._ No news yet?

_Ger._ Do you hear Sir?

_Gos._ Yes.

_Ger._ Do you love me?

_Gos._ Have I liv'd In all the happiness Fortune could seat me, In all mens fair opinions?

_Ger._ I have provided A Priest, that's ready for us.

_Gos._ And can the Devil, In one ten days, that Devil Chance devour me?

_Ger._ We'll fly to what place you please.

_Gos._ No Star prosperous! All at a swoop?

_Ger._ You do not love me _Goswin_? You will not look upon me?

_Gos._ Can mens Prayers Shot up to Heaven, with such a zeal as mine are, Fall back like lazy mists, and never prosper? Jives I must wear, and cold must be my comfort; Darkness, and want of meat; alas she weeps too, Which is the top of all my sorrows, _Gertrude_.

_Ger._ No, no, you will not know me; my poor beauty, Which has been worth your eyes.

_Gos._ The time grows on still; And like a tumbling wave, I see my ruine Come rowling over me.

_Ger._ Yet will ye know me?

_Gos._ For a hundred thousand Crowns.

_Ger._ Yet will ye love me? Tell me but how I have deserv'd your slighting?

_Gos._ For a hundred thousand Crowns?

_Ger._ Farewel Dissembler.

_Gos._ Of which I have scarce ten: O how it starts me!

_Ger._ And may the next you love, hearing my ruine.

_Gos._ I had forgot my self, O my best _Gertrude_, Crown of my joys and comforts.

_Ger._ Sweet what ails ye? I thought you had been vext with me.

_Gos._ My mind, Wench, My mind o'rflow'd with sorrow, sunk my memory.

_Ger._ Am I not worthy of the knowledge of it? And cannot I as well affect your sorrows, As your delights? you love no other Woman?

_Gos._ No, I protest.

_Ger._ You have no ships lost lately?

_Gos._ None, that I know of.

_Ger._ I hope you have spilt no blood, whose innocence May lay this on your conscience.

_Gos._ Clear, by Heaven.

_Ger._ Why should you be thus then?

_Gos._ Good _Gertrude_ ask not, Ev'n by the love you bear me.

_Ger._ I am obedient.

_Gos._ Go in, my fair, I will not be long from ye, Nor long I fear me with thee. At my return Dispose me as you please.

_Ger._ The good gods guide ye. [_Exit._

_Gos._ Now for my self, which is the least I hope for, And when that fails, for mans worst fortune, pity. [_Exit._

_ACTUS QUARTUS. SCENA PRIMA._

_Enter_ Goswin _and_ 4. Merchants.

_Gos._ Why gentlemen, 'tis but a week more, I intreat you But 7. short days, I am not running from ye; Nor, if you give me patience, is it possible All my adventures fail; you have ships abroad Endure the beating both of Wind and Weather: I am sure 'twould vex your hearts, to be protested; Ye are all fair Merchants.

_1 Mer._ Yes, and must have fair play: There is no living here else; one hour's failing Fails us of all our friends, of all our credits: For my part, I would stay, but my wants tell me, I must wrong others in't.

_Gos._ No mercy in ye!

_2 Mer._ 'Tis foolish to depend on others mercy: Keep your self right, and even cut your cloth, Sir, According to your calling, you have liv'd here, In Lord-like Prodigality, high, and open, And now ye find what 'tis: the liberal spending The Summer of your Youth, which you should glean in, And like the labouring Ant, make use and gain of, Has brought this bitter, stormy Winter on ye, And now you cry.

_3 Mer._ Alas, before your Poverty, We were no men, of no mark, no endeavour; You stood alone, took up all trade, all business Running through your hands, scarce a Sail at Sea, But loaden with your Goods: we poor weak Pedlers; When by your leave, and much intreaty to it, We could have stowage for a little Cloath, Or a few Wines, put off, and thank your Worship. Lord, how the World's chang'd with ye? now I hope, Sir, We shall have Sea-room.

_Gos._ Is my misery Become my scorn too! have ye no humanity? No part of men left? are all the Bounties in me To you, and to the Town, turn'd my reproaches?

_4 Mer._ Well, get your moneys ready: 'tis but 2 hours; We shall protest ye else, and suddenly.

_Gos._ But two days.

_1 Mer._ Not an hour, ye know the hazard. [_Exeunt._

_Gos._ How soon my light's put out! hard hearted _Bruges_! Within thy Walls may never honest Merchant Venture his fortunes more: O my poor Wench too.

_Enter_ Gerrard.

_Ger._ Good fortune, Master.

_Gos._ Thou mistak'st me, _Clause_, I am not worth thy Blessing.

_Ger._ Still a sad man!

_Enter_ Higgen _and_ Prigg, _like_ Porters. No belief gentle Master? come bring it in then, And now believe your Beadsman.

_Gos._ Is this certain? Or dost thou work upon my troubled sense?

_Ger._ 'Tis gold, Sir, Take it and try it.

_Gos._ Certainly 'tis treasure; Can there be yet this Blessing?

_Ger._ Cease your wonder, You shall not sink, for ne'r a sowst Flap-dragon, For ne'r a pickl'd Pilcher of 'em all, Sir, 'Tis there, your full sum, a hundred thousand crowns: And good sweet Master, now be merry; pay 'em, Pay the poor pelting Knaves, that know no goodness: And chear your heart up handsomely.

_Gos._ Good _Clause_, How cam'st thou by this mighty Sum? if naughtily, I must not take it of thee, 'twill undo me.

_Ger._ Fear not, you have it by as honest means As though your father gave it: Sir, you know not To what a mass, the little we get daily, Mounts in seven years; we beg it for Heavens charity, And to the same good we are bound to render it.

_Gos._ What great security?

_Ger._ Away with that, Sir, Were not ye more than all the men in _Bruges_; And all the money in my thoughts--

_Gos._ But good _Clause_, I may dye presently.

_Ger._ Then this dies with ye: Pay when you can good Master, I'll no Parchments, Only this charity I shall entreat you; Leave me this Ring.

_Gos._ Alas, it is too poor, _Clause_.

_Ger._ 'Tis all I ask, and this withal, that when I shall deliver this back, you shall grant me Freely one poor petition.

_Gos._ There, I confirm it, [_Gives the Ring._ And may my faith forsake me when I shun it.

_Ger._ Away, your time draws on. Take up the money, And follow this young Gentleman.

_Gos._ Farewell _Clause_, And may thy honest memory live for ever.

_Ger._ Heaven bless you, and still keep you, farewel Master. [_Exeunt._