University of Virginia Library

Actus Tertius

Scæna Prima.

Enter three or foure Boores.
1 B.
Come, English beer Hostess, English beer bi'th belly.

2 B.
Start beer boy, stout & strong beer: so, sit downe Lads,
And drinke me upsey-Dutch:
Frollicke, and feare not.

Enter Higgen like a Sow-gelder, singing.
Hig.
Have ye any worke for the Sow-gelder, bow,
My borne goes to high to low, to high to low.
Have ye any Piggs, Calves, or Colts,
Have ye any Lambs in your bolts
To cut for the Stone
Here comes a cunning one.
Have ye any braches to spade,
Or e're a faire maide
That would be a Nun,
Come kisse me, 'tis done.
Harke how my merry borne doth blow,
Too high too low, too high too low.

1 B.
O excellent two-pence a piece boyes, two-pence a piece:
Give the boys some drink there. Piper, wet your whistle.
Canst tell me a way now, how to cut off my wives Concupiscence?

Hig.
The Song.

1 Bo.
More excellent, more excellent, sweet Sow-gelder.

2 Bo.
Three-pence a piece, three-pence a peice.

Hig.
Will you heare a Song how the Divel was gelded?

3 Bo.
I, I, lets heare the Divell roare, Sow-gelder.

1 Bo.
Groats a piece, groats a piece, groats a piece,
There sweet Sow-gelder.

Enter Prig. and Ferret.
Prig.
Will ye see any feates of activity,
Some sleight of hand, leigerdemaine? hey passe,
Presto, be gone there?

2 Bo.
Sit downe Jugler.

Prig.
Sirha, play you your art well; draw neer piper:
Looke you, my honest friends, you see my hands;
Plaine dealing is no Divel: lend me some money;
Twelve-pence a piece will serve.

1., 2. B.
There, there.

Prig.
I thanke you,
Thanke ye heartily: when shall I pay ye?

All B.
Ha, ha, ha, by'th masse this was a fine trick.

Prig.
A merry sleight toy: but now I'le shew your Worships
A tricke indeed.

Hig.
Marke him well now my Masters.

Prig.
Here are three balls,
These balls shall be three bullets,
One, two, and three: ascentibus malentibus.
Presto, be gone: they are vanish'd: faire play Gentlemen,
Now these three, like 3. bullets, from your three noses
Will I plucke presently: feare not, no harme boyes,
Titere, tu patule.

1 B.
Oh, oh, oh.

Prig.
Recubans sub jermine fagi.

2 B.
Ye pull too hard; ye pull too hard.

Prig.
Stand faire then:
Silvertramtrim-tram.

3 B.
Hold, hold, hold.

Prig.
Come aloft bullets three, with a whim-wham:
Have ye their moneys?

Hig.
Yes, yes.

1 B.
Oh rare Jugler.

2 B.
Oh admirable Jugler,

Prig.
One tricke more yet;
Hey, come aloft: sa, sa, flim, flum, taradumbis?
East, west, north, south, now flye like Jacke with a bumbis.
Now all your money's gone: pray search your pockets.

1 B.
Humh.

2 B.
He,

3 B.
The Divell a penny's here.

Prig.
This was a rare tricke.

1 B.
But 'twould be a far rarer to restore it.

Prig.
I'le doe ye that too: looke upon me earnestly,
And move not any wayes your eyes from this place,
This button here: pow, whir, whiss, shake your pockets.

1 B.
By'th masse 'tis here againe boyes.

Prig.
Rest ye merry;
My first tricke has paid me.

All B.
I, take it, take it,
And take some drinke too.

Prig.
Not a drop now I thanke you;
Away, we are discover'd else.

Exit.
Enter Gerrard like a blinde Aquavitæ-man, and a boy singing the Song.
Ger.
Buy any brand wine, buy any brand wine?

Boy.
Have ye any Cony-skins.

2 B.
My fine Canary-bird, ther's a cake for thy worship,

1 B.
Come, fill, fill, fill, fill suddenly: let's see Sir,
What's this?

Ger.
A penny Sir.

1 B.
Fill till't be six-pence,
And there's my pig.

Boy.
This is a counter Sir.

1 B.
A counter? stay ye, what are these then?
O execrable Jugler! ô damn'd Jugler!
Look in your hose, hoa: this comes of looking forward.

3 B.
Divell a Dunkirke! what a rogue's this Jugler,
This hey passe, repasse, h'as repast us sweetly.

2 B.
Doe ye call these tricks.

Enter Higgen.
Hig.
Have ye any ends of gold or silver.

2 B.
This fellow comes to mock us; gold or silver? cry copper.

1 B.
Yes my good friend,
We have e'ne an end of all we have.

Hig.
'Ts well Sir,
You have the lesse to care for: gold and silver,

Exit.
Enter Prig.
Pr.
Have ye any old cloaks to sel, have ye any old clokes to sel.

Exit.
1 B.
Cloakes? looke about ye boyes: mine's gone.

2 B.
A—juggle 'em?
—o' their Prestoes: mine's gone too.

3 B.
Here's mine yet.

1 B.
Come, come, let's drink then: more brand wine.

Boy.
Here Sir.

1 B.
If e're I catch your Sow-gelder, by this hand I'le strip him;
Were ever fooles so ferkt? we have two cloakes yet,
And all our caps; the Divell take the flincher.

All B.
Yaw, yaw, yaw, yaw.

Enter Hemskirke.
Hem.
Good do'n my honest fellows,
You are merry here I see.

3 B.
'Tis all we have left Sir.

Hem.
What hast thou? Aquavitæ?

Boy.
Yes.

Hem.
Fill out then,
And give these honest fellows round.

All b.
We thanke ye.

Hem.
May I speake a word in private to ye?

All b.
Yes Sir.

Hem.
I have a businesse for you, honest friends,
If you dare lend your help, shall get you crownes.

Ger.
Ha?
Lead me a little nearer, boy.

1 B.
What is't Sir?
If it be any thing to purchase money,
Which is our want, command us.

Boors.
All, all, all Sir.

Hem.
You know the young spruce Merchant in Brugis.

2 B.
Who? Master Goswin?

Hem.
That: he owes me money,
And here in towne there is no stirring of him.

Ger.
Say ye so?

Hem.
This day, upon a sure appointment,
He meets me a mile hence, by the Chase side
Under the row of Okes, do you know it?

All b.
Yes Sir.

Hem.
Give 'em more drinke: there if you dare but venture
When I shall give the word to seize upon him,
Here's twenty pound.

3 Boy.
Beware the Jugler.

Hem.
If he resist, downe with him, have no mercy.

1 Boy.
I warrant you: wee'l hamper him.

Hem.
To discharge you,
I have a warrant here about me.

3 Boy.
Her's our warrant,
This carries fire i'the tayle.

Hem.
Away with me then,
The time draws on,
I must remove so insolent a Suitor,
And if he be so rich, make him pay ransome
Ere he see Bruges towres againe: thus wise men
Repaire the hurts they take by a disgrace,
And piece the Lyons skyn with the Foxes case.

Ger.
I am glad I have heard this sport yet.

Hem.
Ther's for thy drink; come pay the house within boyes,
And loose no time.

Ger.
Away with all our hast too.

Exeunt.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter Florez.
Flo.
No winde blow faire yet? no returne of moneys?
Letters? nor any thing, to hold my hopes up?
Why then 'tis destin'd, that I fall, fall miserably,
My credite I was built on, sinking with me.
Thou boystrous North-wind, blowing my mis-fortunes,
And frosting all my hopes to cakes of coldnesse,
Yet stay thy fury: give the gentle South
Yet leave to court those sailes that bring me safety,
And you auspicious fires, bright twins in heaven
Daunce on the shrowds: he blows still, stubbornly,
And on his boystrous racke rides my sad ruine;
There is no help, there can be now no comfort,
To morrow with the Sun-set sets my credite.
Oh misery! thou curse of man, thou plague,
In the midst all our strength thou strik'st us;
My vertuous Love is toss'd too: all, what I have been,
No more hereafter to be seen then shadow;
To prison now? well, yet ther's this hope left me,
I may sinke fairely under this dayes venture
And so to morrow's cross'd, and all those curses:
Yet manly I'le invite my fate, base fortune
Shall never say, she has cut my throate in feare.
This is the place his challenge call'd me too,
And was a happy one at this time for me,
For let me fall before my foe i'the field,
And not at Bar, before my Creditors,
Ha's kept his word: now Sir, your swords tongue only
Loud as you dare, all other language—

Enter Hemskirke.
Hem.
Well Sir,
You shall not be long troubled: draw.

Flo.
'Tis done Sir,
And now have at ye.

Hem.
Now.

Enter Boores.
Flo.
Betray'd to Villains?
Slaves ye shall buy me bravely,
And thou base coward.

Enter Gerrard and Beggars.
Ger.
Now upon 'em bravely,
Conjure 'em soundly boyes.

Boores.
Hold, hold.

Ger.
Lay on still,
Down with that Gentleman rogue, swinge him to stirrup:
Retire Sir, and take breath: follow and take him,
Take all, 'tis lawfell prize.

Boores.
We yield.

Ger.
Downe with 'em
Into the wood, and rifle 'em, tew 'em, swinge 'em,
Knocke me their braines into their breeches.

Exeunt.
Boors.
Hold, hold.

Flo.
What these men are I know not, nor for what curse
They shou'd thus thrust themselves into my danger,
Can I imagine. But sure heavens hand was in't,
Nor why this coward knave should deale so basely
To eate me up with slaves: but heaven, I thanke thee,
I hope thou hast reserv'd me to an end
Fit for thy creature, and worthy of thine honour:
Would all my other dangers here had suffered,
With what a joyfull heart should I goe home then?
Wher now, heaven knows; like him that waits his sentēce
Or heares his passing bell; but ther's my hope still.

Enter Gerrard.
Ger.
Blessing upon you Master.

Flo.
Thanke ye; leave me,
For by my troth I have nothing now to give thee.

Ger.
Indeed I do not aske Sir, only it grieves me
To see ye looke so sad; now goodnesse keepe ye
From troubles in your minde.

Flo.
If I were troubled
What could thy comfort do? prethee Clause, leave me.

Ger.
Good Master be not angry; for what I say
Is out of true love to ye.

Flo.
I know thou lov'st me.

Ger.
Good Mr. blame that love then, If I prove so sawcy
To aske ye why ye are sad.

Flo.
Most true, I am so,
And such a sadnesse I have got will sinke me.

Ger.
Heaven shield it, Sir.

Flo.
Faith thou must loose thy Master.

Ger.
I had rather loose my neck Sir: would I knew—

Flo.
What would the knowledg do thee good, so miserable,
Thou canst not help thy selfe? when all my ways
Nor all the friends I have—

Ger.
You do not know Sir,
What I can doe: cures sometimes, for mens cares
Flow, where they least expect 'em.

Flo.
I know thou wouldst doe,
But fare-well Clause, and pray for thy poore Master.

Ger.
I will not leave ye.

Flo.
How?

Ger.
I dare not leave ye,
And till ye beate me dead, I must not leave ye.
By what ye hold most pretious, by heavens goodnesse,
As your faire youth may prosper, good Sir tell me:
My minde beleeves yet something's in my power
May ease you of this trouble.

Flo.
I will tell thee
For a hundred thousand crownes upon my credit,
Taken up of Merchants to supply my traffiques,
The windes and weather envying of my fortune,
And no returne to help me off, yet shewing
To morrow, Clause, to morrow, which must come
In spron, thou shalt finde me poore, and broken.

Ger.
I cannot blame your griefe Sir.

Flo.
Now, what say'st thou?

Ger.
I say you should not shrinck, for he that gave ye,
Can give you more, his power can bring ye off Sir,
When friends and all forsake ye, yet he see you.

Flo.
That's all my hope.

Ger.
Hope still Sir, are you tide
Within the compasse of a day, good Master,
To pay this masse of money?

Flo.
Ev'n to morrow;
But why do I stand mocking of my misery?
Is't not enough the floods, and friends forget me?

Ger.
Will no lesse serve?

Flo.
What if it would?

Ger.
Your patience,
I do not aske to mock ye: 'tis a great sum,
A sum for mighty men to start, and stick at;
But not for honest: have ye no friends left ye,
None that have felt your bounty? worth this duty?

Flo.
Duty? thou know'st it not.

Ger.
It is a duty,
And as a duty, from those men have felt ye,
Should be return'd againe: I have gain'd by ye,
A daily almes these seven yearess you have showr'd me,
Will halfe supply your want.

Flo.
Why do'st thou foole me?
Can'st thou worke miracles?

Ger.
To save my Master,
I can worke this.

Flo.
Thou wilt make me angry with thee.

Ger.
For doing good?

Flo.
What power hast thou?

Ger.
Enquire not:
So I can do it, to preserve my Master;
Nay if it be three parts.

Flo.
O that I had it,
But good Clause, talke no more, I feele thy charity,
As thou has felt mine: but alas!

Ger.
Distrust not.
Tis that that quenches ye: pull up your spirit,
Your good, your honest, and your noble spirit;
For if the fortunes of ten thousand people
Can save ye, rest assur'd; you have forgot Sir,
The good ye did, which was the power you gave me;
Ye shall now know the King of Beggars treasure:
And let the windes blow as they please, the Seas roare,
Yet, here to morrow, you shall finde your harbour
Here faile me not, for if I live I'le fit ye.

Flo.
How faine I would believe thee.

Ger.
If I ly Master,
Believe no man hereafter.

Flo.
I will trye thee,
But he knowes, that knowes all.

Ger.
Know me to morrow,
And if I know not how to cure ye, kill me;
So passe in peace, my best, my worthiest Master.

Exeunt.

Scæna Tertia.

Enter Hubert like a Huntesman.
Hub.
Thus have I stolne away disguiz'd from Hemskirck
To try these people, for my heart yet tells me
Some of these Beggars, are the men I looke for
Appearing like my selfe, they have no reason
(Though my intent is faire, my maine end honest)
But to avoyde me narrowly, that face too,
That womans face, how neere it is: ô may it
But prove the same, and fortune how I'le blesse thee;
Thus, sure they cannot know me, or suspect me,
If to my habit I but change my nature;
As I must do; this is the wood they live in,
A place fit for concealement: where, 'till fortune
Crowne me with that I seeke, I'le live amongst 'em.

Exit.
Enter Higgen, Prig. Ferret. Ginks. and the rest of the Boores.
Hig.
Come bring 'em out, for here we sit in justice:
Give to each one a cudgell, a good cudgell:
And now attend your sentence, that you are rogues,
And mischeivous base rascalls, (ther's the point now)
I take it, is confess'd.

Prig.
Deny it if you dare knaves.

Boores.
We are Rogues Sir.

Hig.
To amplify the matter then rogues as ye are,
And lamb'd, ye shall be ere we leave ye.

Boores.
Yes Sir.

Hig.
And to the open handling of our justice,
Why did ye this upon the proper person
Of our good Master? were you drunk when you did it?

Boores.
Yes indeed were we.

Prig.
You shall be beaten sober.

Hig.
Was it for want you undertooke it?

Boores.
Yes Sir.

Hig.
You shall be swing'd aboundantly.

Prig.
And yet for all that,
You shall be poore rogues still.

Hig.
Has not the Gentleman,
Pray marke this point Brother Prig, that noble Gentleman
Releiv'd ye often, found ye meanes to live by,
By imploying some at Sea, some here; some there;
According to your callings?

Boores.
'Tis most true Sir.

Hig.
Is not the man, an honest man?

Boores.
Yes truly.

Hig.
A liberall Gentleman? and as ye are true rascalls
Tell me but this, have ye not been drunk, and often,
At his charge?

Boores.
Often, often.

Hig.
Ther's the point then,
They have cast themselves, brother Prig.

Prig.
A shrew'd point Brother.

Hig.
Brother, proceed you now; the cause is open,
I am some what weary.

Prig.
Can you do these things?
You most abhominable stincking Rascalls,
You turnip-eating Rogues.

Boores.
We are truly sorry.

Prig.
Knock at your hard harts Rogues, and presently
Give us a signe you feele compunction,
Every man up with's cudgell, and on his neighbour
Bestow such almes, 'till we shall say sufficient,
For there your sentence lyes without partiality;
Either of head, or hide, Rogues, without sparing,
Or we shall take the paines to bear you dead else:
You shall know your doom.

Hig.
One, two, and three about it.

Prig.
That fellow in the blew, has true compunction,
He beates his fellowes bravely, oh, well struck boyes,

Enter Gerrard.
Hig.
Up with that blew breech, now playes he the Divell,
So get ye home, drink small beere, and be honest;
Call in the Gentleman.

Ger.
Do, bring him presently,
His cause I'le heare my selfe.

Enter Hemskirck.
Hig., Prig.
With all due reverence,
We do resigne Sir.

Ger.
Now huffing Sir, whats your name?

Hem.
What's that to you Sir?

Ger.
It shall be ere we part.

Hem.
My name is Hemskirk,
I follow the Earle, which you shall feele.

Ger.
No threatning,
For we shall coole you Sir; why did'st thou basely
Attempt the murder of the Merchant Goswin?

Hem.
What power hast thou to aske me?

Ger.
I will know it.
Or plea thee till thy paine discover it.

Hem.
He did me wrong, base wrong.

Ger.
That cannot save ye,
Who sent ye hither? and what further villanies
Have ye in hand?

Hem.
Why would'st thou know? what profit,
If I had any private way, could rise
Out of my knowledge, to do thee commodity?
Be sorry for what thou hast done, and make amends foole
I'le talke no further to thee: nor these rascalls.

Ger.
Tye him to that tree.

Hem.
I have told you whom I follow.

Ger.
The Divell you should do, by your villanies,
Now he that has the best way, wring it from him.

Hig.
I undertake it: turne him to the Sun boyes;
Give me a fine sharpe rush, will ye confesse yet?

Hem.
Ye have rob'd me already, now you'le murder me

Hig.
Murder your nose a little: does your head purge Sir?
To it againe, 'twill do ye good.

Hem.
Oh,
I cannot tell you any thing.

Ger.
Proceed then.

Hig.
Ther's maggots in your nose, I'le fetch em out Sir.

Hem.
O my head breakes.

Hig.
The best thing for the rhewme Sir,
That falls into your worships eyes.

Hem.
Hold, hold.

Ger.
Speake then.

Hem.
I know not what.

Hig.
It lyes in's braine yet,
In lumps it lyes, I'le fetch it out the finest;
What pretty faces the foole makes? heigh!

Hem.
Hold,
Hold, and I'le tell ye all, looke in my doublet;
And there within the lining in a paper,
You shall finde all.

Ger.
Go fetch that paper hither,
And let him loose for this time.

Enter Hubert.
Hub.
Good ev'n my honest feiends.

Ger.
Good ev'n good fellow.

Hub.
May a poore huntsman, with a merry hart,
A voyce shall make the forrest ring about him,
Get leave to live amongst ye? true as steele, boyes?
That knowes all chases, and can watch all howres,
And with my quarter staffe, though the Divell bid stand,
Deale such an almes, shall make him roare again?
Prick ye the fearefull hare through crosse wayes, sheepe walkes
And force the crafty Reimald climb the quiksetts;
Rouse ye the lofty, Stag, and with my bell-horne,
Ring him a knell, that all the woods shall mourne him,
'Till in his funerall teares, he fall before me?
The Polcat, Marterne, and the rich skin'd Lucerne,
I know to chase, the Roe, the winde out-stripping
Isgrin himselfe, in all his bloody anger;
I can beate from the bay, and the wild Sounder
Single, and with my arm'd staffe, turne the Boare,
Spight of his fomy tushes, and thus strike him;
'Till he fall downe my feast.

Ger.
A goodly fellow.

Hub.
What mak'st thou here, ha?

Ger.
We accept thy fellowship.

Hub.
Hemskirck, thou art not right I feare, I feare thee.

Enter Ferret, a letter.
Fer.
Here is the paper: and as he said we found it.

Ger,
Give me it, I shall make a shift yet, old as I am
To finde your knavery: you are sent here, Sirra
To discover certaine Gentlemen, a spy-knave
And if ye finde 'em, If not by perswasion
To bring 'em back, by poyson to dispatch 'em.

Hub.
By poyson, ha?

Ger.
Here is an other, Hubert;
What is that Hubert Sir?

Hem.
You may perceive there.

Ger.
I may perceive a villany and a ranke one,
Was he joyn'd partner of thy knavery?

Hem.
No.
He had an honest end, would I have had so,
Which makes him scape such cut throates.

Ger.
So it seemes,
For here thou art commanded, when that Hubert
Has done his best and worthiest service, this way
To cut his throat, for here he's set downe dangerous.

Hub.
This is most impious.

Ger.
I am glad we have found ye,
Is not this true?

Hem.
Yes? what are you the better;

Ger.
You shall perceive Sir, ere you get your fredome:
Take him aside, and friend, we take thee to us,
Into our company, thou dar'st be true unto us?

Hig.
I, and obedient too?

Hub.
As you had bred me.

Ger.
Then take our hand: thou art now a servant to us,
Welcom him all.

Hig.
Stand off, stand off: I'le do it,
We bid yee welcome three wayes: first for your person,
Which is a promising person, next for your quality,
Which is a decent, and a gentle quality,
Last for the frequent meanes you have to feed us,
You can steale 'tis to be presum'd.

Hub.
Yes, venson,
Or if I want—

Hig.
'Tis well you understand right,
And shall learne dayly: you can drink too?

Hub.
Soundly.

Hig.
And ye dare know a woman from a weathercock?

Hub.
Yes, if I handle her.

Ger.
Now sweare him.

Hig.
You are welcom Brother.

All.
Welcom, welcom, welcom, but who shall have the keeping
Of this fellow?

Hub.
Thank ye friends,
And I beseech ye, if you dare but trust me;
For if I have kept wilde doggs and beastes for wonder,
And made 'em tame too: give into my custody
This roaring rascall I shall hamper him,
With all his knacks and knaveryes, and I feare me
Discover yet a further villany in him;
O he smells ranck o'th rascall.

Ger.
Take him to thee,
But if he scape—

Hub.
Let me be ev'n hang'd for him,
Roome Sir, I'le tye ye to my leash.

Hem.
Away Rascall.

Hub.
Be not so stubborne: I shall swindge ye soundly,
And ye play tricks with me.

Ger.
Now sweare him.

Hig.
I crowne thy nab, with a gag of benbouse,
And stall thee by the salmon into the clowes,
To mand on the pad, and strike all the cheates;
To mill from the Ruffmans, commision and states,
Twang dell's, i' the stiromell, and let the Quire Cuffin:
And Herman Beck strine, and trine to the Ruffin.

Ger.
Now interpret this unto him.

Hig.
I powre on thy pate a pot of good ale,
And by the Rogues oth a Rogue thee install:
To beg on the way, to rob all thou meetes;
To steale from the hedge, both the shirt and the sheetes:
And lye with thy wench in the straw till she twang,
Let the Constable, Iustice, and Divell go hang.

Ger.
So, now come in,
But ever have an eye Sir, to your prisoner.

Hub.
He must blinde both mine eyes, if he get from me.

Ger.
Go, get some victualls, and some drink, some good drink
For this day wee'le keep holly to good fortune,
Come and be frollick with us.

Hig.
ye are a stanger.

Exeunt.

Scæna quarta.

Enter Floriz. and Bertha.
Ber.
Indeed yae'r welcom: I have hard your scape,
And therefore give her leave, that onely loves you;
(Truely and dearely loves ye) give her joy leave,
To bid ye welcom: what'ist makes you sad man?
Why do you looke so wilde? is't I offend ye?
Be shrew my heart, not willingly.

Flo.
No Jertred.

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

Flo.
No newes yet?

Ber.
Do you heare Sir?

Flo.
Yes.

Ber.
Do you love me?

Flo.
Have I liv'd,
In all the happinesse fortune could seat me,
In all mens faire opinions?

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

Flo.
And can the Divell,
In one ten dayes, that Divell chance devour me?

Ber.
Wee'le fly to what place you please.

Flo.
No star prosperous?
All at a swoope?

Ber.
You do not love me Goswin?
You will not looke upon me?

Flo.
Can mens prayers
Shot up to heaven, with such a zeale as mine are,
Fall back like lazy mists, and never prosper?
Geyves, I must weare, and cold must be my comfort;
Darknesse, and want of meat; alas she weepes too,
Which is the top of all my sorrowes, Jertred.

Ber.
No, no, you will not know me; my poore beauty,
Which has been worth your eyes.

Flo.
The time growes on still:
And like a tumbling wave, I see my ruine,
Come rolling over me.

Ber.
Yet will ye know me?

Flo.
For a hundred thousand crownes.

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

Flo.
For a hundred thousand crownes?

Ber.
Farewell dissembler.

Flo.
Of which I have scarce ten: ô how it starts me.

Ber.
And may the next you love, hearing my ruine.

Flo.
I had forgot my selfe, ô my best Gertred,
Crowne of my joyes, and comforts.

Ber.
sweet what ayle ye?
I thought you had been vext with me.

Flo.
My minde wench,
My minde o're flow'd with sorrow, sunck my memory.

Ber.
Am I not worthy of the knowledge of it?
And cannot I as well affect your sorrowes,
As your delights? you love no other woman?

Flo.
No I protest.

Ber.
You have no ships lost lately?

Flo.
None that I know of.

Ber.
I hope you have spilt no blood: whose innocence
May lay this on your conscience.

Flo.
Cleare, by heaven.

Ber.
Why should you be thus then?

Flo.
Good Jertred, aske not,
Ev'n By the love you beare me.

Ber.
I am obedient.

Flo.
Go in my faire; I will not be long from ye,
Nor long I feare me with thee, At my returne
Despise me as you please.

Ber.
The good gods guide ye.

Exit.
Flo.
Now for my selfe which is the least I hope for,
And when that failes, for mans worst fortune, pitty.

Exit.