Act II. Scene III. Another Street In The Same.

[Enter the Governour of the English house, Bagot, Banister,
his wife, and two officers.]

Is Cromwell gone then, say you, master Bagot?
What dislike, I pray? what was the cause?

To tell you true, a wild brain of his own;
Such youth as they cannot see when they are well:
He is all bent to travail, that's his reason,
And doth not love to eat his bread at home.

Well, good fortune with him, if the man be gone.
We hardly shall find such a one as he,
To fit our turns; his dealings were so honest.
But now, sir, for your Jewels that I have,
What do you say? will you take my prise?

O, sir, you offer too much underfoot.

Tis but two hundred pound between us, man.
What's that in payment of five thousand pound?

Two hundred pound! birlady, sir, tis great:
Before I got so much, it made me sweat.

Well, Master Bagot, I'll profer you fairly.
You see this Merchant, master Banister,
Is going now to prison at your suit.
His substance all is gone; what would you have?
Yet in regard I knew the man of wealth--
Never dishonest dealing, but such mishaps
Hath fallen on him, may light on me or you--
There is two hundred pound between us;
We will divide the same: I'll give you one,
On that condition you will set him free:
His state is nothing, that you see your self,
And where naught is, the King must lose his right.

Sir, sir, you speak out of your love,
Tis foolish love, sir, sure, to pity him:
Therefore, content your self; this is my mind:
To do him good I will not bate a penny.

This is my comfort: though thou doost no good,
A mighty ebb follows a mighty flood.

O thou base wretch, whom we have fostered
Even as a Serpent for to poison us,
If God did ever right a woman's wrong,
To that same God I bend and bow my heart,
To let his heavy wrath fall on thy head,
By whom my hopes and joys are butchered.

Alas, fond woman, I pray thee, pray thy worst;
The Fox fares better still when he is curst.

[Enter Master Bowser, a Merchant.]

Master Bowser! you're welcome, sir, from England.
What's the best news? how doth all our friends?

They are all well and do commend them to you:
There's letters from your brother and your son:
So fair you well, sir; I must take my leave.
My haste and business doth require such.

Before you dine, sir? What, go you out of town?

Aye, faith, unless I hear some news in town,
I must away; there is no remedy.

Master Bowser, what is your business? may I know it?

You may, sir, and so shall all the City.
The King of late hath had his treasury robbed,
And of the choicest jewels that he had:
The value of them was some seven thousand pound.
The fellow that did steal these jewels, he is hanged,
And did confess that for three hundred pound
He sold them to one Bagot dwelling in London:
Now Bagot's fled, and, as we hear, to Antwerp,
And hither am I come to seek him out;
And they that first can tell me of his news
Shall have a hundred pound for their reward.

How just is God to right the innocent.

Master Bowser, you come in happy time:
Here is the villain Bagot that you seek,
And all those jewels have I in my hands.
Officers, look to him, hold him fast.

The devil ought me a shame, and now hath paid it.

Is this that Bagot? fellows, bear him hence.
We will not now stand for his reply.
Lade him with Irons; we will have him tried
In England, where his villainies are known.

Mischief, confusion, light upon you all!
O hang me, drown me, let me kill my self!
Let go my arms; let me run quick to hell.

Away, bear him away; stop the slave's mouth.

[They carry him away.]

Thy works are infinite, great God of heaven.

I heard this Bagot was a wealthy fellow.

He was indeed, for when his goods were seized,
Of Jewels, coin, and Plate within his house,
Was found the value of five thousand pound;
His furniture fully worth half so much,
Which being all strained for, for the King,
He frankly gave it to the Antwerp merchants,
And they again, out of their bounteous mind,
Hath to a brother of their company,
A man decayed by fortune of the Seas,
Given Bagot's wealth, to set him up again,
And keep it for him: his name is Banister.

Master Bowser, with this happy news
You have revived two from the gates of death:
This is that Banister, and this his wife.

Sir, I am glad my fortune is so good,
To bring such tidings as may comfort you.

You have given life unto a man deemed dead,
For by these news, my life is newly bred.

Thanks to my God, next to my Sovereign King,
And last to you that these good hopes doth bring.

The hundred pound I must receive as due
For finding Bagot, I freely give to you.

And, Master Banister, if so you please,
I'll bear you company, when you cross the Seas.

If it please you, sir; my company is but mean.
Stands with your liking, I'll wait on you.

I am glad that all things do accord so well:
Come, Master Bowser, let us in to dinner:
And, Mistress Banister, be merry, woman!
Come, after sorrow now let's cheer your spirit;
Knaves have their due, and you but what you merit.

[Exit omnes.]
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