University of Virginia Library

Scæna prima.

Enter Floriz. and 4. Merchants.
Flo.
Why Gentlemen, 'tis but a week more I intreat you
But 7. short daies, I am not runnig from ye,
Nor, if you give me patience, is it possible
All my adventures faile; you have ships abroad,
Endure the beating both of winde, or weather:
I am sure 'twould vex your hearts, to be protested
Ye are all faire Merchants,

1. Mer.
Yes, and must have faire play;
There is no lying here else, one howres failing
Failes 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.

Flo.
No mercy in ye?

2. Mer.
'Tis foolish to depend on others mercy:
Keepe your selfe right, and even, out your cloth Sir,
According to your calling: you have liv'd here
In Lordlike prodigality; high, and open,
And now ye finde what 'tis: the liberall spending
The summer of your youth, which you should gleane in,
And like the labouring Ant, make use and gaine 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 marke, no endeavour;
You stood alone, tooke up all trade, all business,
Running through your hands, scarce a sayle at Sea,
But loaden with your goods: we poore weak pedlers,
When by your leave, and much intreaty to it:
We could have stoage for a little cloth,
Or a few wines, put of and thanke your worship
Lord, how the world's chang'd with ye? now I hope Sir,
We shall have sea-roome

Flo.
Is my misery,
Become my scorne too? have ye no humanity,
No part of men left? are all the bountyes in me
To you, and to the Towne; turn'd my reproaches?

4. Mer.
Well, get your monyes ready: 'tis but 2. howres
We shall protest ye else, and sodainly.

Flo.
But two dayes.

1. Mer.
Not an howre, ye know the hazard.

Exit.
Flo.
How soone my light's put out: hard harted Bruges;
Within thy walls, may never honest Merchant
Venture his fortunes more: ô my poore wench too;

Enter Gerrard.
Ger.
Good fortune Master.

Flo.
Thou mistak'st me Clause,
I am not worth thy blessing.

Ger.
Stil a sad man?
Enter Higgen. and Prig. like Porter.
No beliefe gentle Master? come bring it in then,
And now believe your Beadesman.

Flo.
Is this certaine?
Or do'st thou work upon my troubled sence?

Ger.
'Tis gold Sir,
Take it and try it.

Flo.
Certainely 'tis treasure,
Can there be yet this blessing?

Ger.
Cease your wonder,
You shall not sinke, for nev'r a sowst Flap-dragon:
For nere a pickel'd pilcher of 'em all Sir,
'Tis there your full summ, a hundred thousand crownes,
And good sweet Master, now Be merry: pay 'em
Pay the poore pelting knaves, that know no goodnesse:
And cheere your heart up handsomely.

Flo.
Good Clause,
How cam'st thou by this mighty summ? if naughtily
I must not take it of thee, 'twill undo me.

Ger.
Feare not: you have it by as honest meanes
As though your father gave it: Sir, you know not
To what a masse, the little we get dayly,
Mounts in seven yeares, we beg it for heavens charity,
And to the same good, we are bound to render it.

Flo.
What great security?

Ger.
Away with that Sir,
Were not ye more then all the men in Bruges;
And all the money in my thoughts—

Flo.
But good Clause,
I may dye presently.

Ger,
Then this dyes with ye—
Pay when you can good Master, I'le no parchments,
Onely this charity I shall intreat ye,
Leave me this Ring.

Flo.
Alas, it is to poore Clause.

Ger.
'Tis all I aske, and this with all, that when
I shall deliver this back, you shall grant me
Freely one poore petition.

Flo.
There I confesse it,
And may my faith forsake mee when I shun it.

Ger.
Away, your time drawes on. Take up the money
And follow this young Gentleman.

Flo.
Farewell Clause,
And may thy honest memory live ever.

Ger.
Heaven blesse ye and still keep ye, farewell Master.

Exeunt.