[Enter Bagot solus.]
BAGOT.
So all goes well; it is as I would have it.
Banister he is with the Governour
And shortly shall have guives upon his heels.
It glads my heart to think upon the slave;
I hope to have his body rot in prison,
And after here his wife to hang her self,
And all his children die for want of food.
The Jewels that I have brought to Antwerp
Are recond to be worth five thousand pound,
Which scarcely stood me in three hundreth pound.
I bought them at an easy kind of rate;
I care not which way they came by them
That sold them me, it comes not near my heart:
And least thy should be stolen—as sure they are—
I thought it meet to sell them here in Antwerp,
And so have left them in the Governour’s hand,
Who offers me within two hundreth pound
Of all my price. But now no more of that:
I must go see and if my bills be safe,
The which I sent to master Cromwell,
That if the wind should keep me on the sea,
He might arrest him here before I came:
[Enter Cromwell.]
And in good time, see where he is. God save you sir.
CROMWELL.
And you: pray pardon me, I know you not.
BAGOT.
It may be so, sir, but my name is Bagot,
The man that sent to you the bills of debt.
CROMWELL.
O, the man that pursues Banister.
Here are the bills of debt you sent to me:
As for the man, you know best where he is.
It is reported you have a flinty heart,
A mind that will not stoop to any pity,
An eye that knows not how to shed a tear,
A hand that’s always open for reward;
But, master Bagot, would you be ruled by me,
You should turn all these to the contrary.
Your heart should still have feeling of remorse,
Your mind according to your state be liberal
To those that stand in need and in distress;
Your hand to help them that do stand in want,
Rather than with your poise to hold them down;
For every ill turn show your self more kind;
Thus should I do; pardon, I speak my mind.
BAGOT.
Aye, sir, you speak to hear what I would say,
But you must live, I know, as well as I:
I know this place to be extortion,
And tis not for a man to keep him,
But he must lie, cog with his dearest friend,
And as for pity, scorn it, hate all conscience.
But yet I do commend your wit in this,
To make a show of what I hope you are not;
But I commend you and tis well done:
This is the only way to bring your gain.
CROMWELL.
My gain! I had rather chain me to an oar,
And like a slave there toil out all my life,
Before I’d live so base a slave as thou:
I, like an hypocrite, to make a show
Of seeming virtue and a devil within!
No, Bagot, would thy conscience were as clear:
Poor Banister ne’er had been troubled here.
BAGOT.
Nay, good master Cromwell; be not angry, sir.
I know full well you are no such man;
But if your conscience were as white as Snow,
It will be thought that you are other wise.
CROMWELL.
Will it be thought that I am other wise?
Let them that think so know they are deceived.
Shall Cromwell live to have his faith misconstered?
Antwerp, for all the wealth within thy Town,
I will not stay here not two hours longer.
As good luck serves, my accounts are all made even;
Therefore I’ll straight unto the treasurer.
Bagot, I know you’ll to the governour;
Commend me to him, say I am bound to travail,
To see the fruitful parts of Italy,
And as you ever bore a Christian mind,
Let Banister some favour of you find.
BAGOT.
For your sake, sir, I’ll help him all I can—
[Aside.] To starve his heart out ere he get a groat.
So, master Cromwell, do I take my leave,
For I must straight unto the governour.
[Exit Bagot.]
CROMWELL.
Farewell, sir; pray you remember what I said.—
No, Cromwell, no; thy heart was ne’er so base,
To live by falsehood or by brokery!
But ’t falles out well, I little it repent;
Hereafter, time in travel shall be spent.
[Enter Hodge, his father’s man.]
HODGE.
Your son Thomas, quoth you: I have been Thomast!
I had thought it had been no such matter to a gone by
water: for at Putney I’ll go you to Parish-garden for
two pence, sit as still as may be, without any wagging
or jolting in my guts, in a little boat too: here we were
scarce four mile in the great green water, but I—thinking
to go to my afternoon’s urgings, as twas my manner at
home—but I felt a kind of rising in my guts. At last one
a the Sailors spying of me, be a good cheer, says he, set
down thy victuals, and up with it, thou hast nothing but an
Eel in thy belly. Well toot went I, to my victuals went the
Sailors, and thinking me to be a man of better experience
than any in the ship, asked me what Wood the ship was
made of: they all swore I told them as right as if I had
been acquainted with the Carpenter that made it. At last
we grew near land, and I grew villainous hungry, went
to my bag: the devil a bit there was. The Sailors had
tickled me; yet I cannot blame them: it was a part of
kindness, for I in kindness told them what Wood the ship
was made of, and they in kindness eat up my victuals, as
indeed one good turn asketh another. Well, would I could
find my master Thomas in this Dutch Town; he might put
some English Beer into my belly.
CROMWELL.
What, Hodge, my father’s man? by my hand, welcome!
How doth my father? what’s the news at home?
HODGE.
Master Thomas, O God, master Thomas, your hand, glove
and all. This is to give you to understanding that your
father is in health, and Alice Downing here hath sent you
a Nutmeg, & Bess Makewater a race of Ginger; my fellow
Will & Tom hath between them sent you a dozen of points,
& good man Tolle of the Goat a pair of mittens; my self
came in person: and this is all the news.
CROMWELL.
Gramarcy, good Hodge, and thou art welcome to me,
But in as ill a time thou comest as may be:
For I am travelling into Italy.
What sayest thou, Hodge? wilt thou bear me company?
HODGE.
Will I bear thee company, Tom? What tell’st me of Italy?
were it to the furthest part of Flanders, I would go with
thee, Tom. I am thine in all weal and woe, thy own to
command. What, Tom! I have passed the rigorous waves
of Neptune’s blasts; I tell you, Thomas, I have been in the
danger of the floods; and when I have seen Boreas begin
to play the Ruffin with us, then would I down of my knees
and call upon Vulcan.
CROMWELL.
And why upon him?
HODGE.
Because, as this same fellow Neptune is God of the Seas, so
Vulcan is Lord over the Smiths, and therefore, I, being a
Smith, thought his Godhead would have some care yet of me.
CROMWELL.
A good conceit, but tell me, hast thou dined yet?
HODGE.
Thomas, to speak the truth, not a bit yet I.
CROMWELL.
Come, go with me; thou shalt have cheer good store.
And farewell, Antwerp, if I come no more.
HODGE.
I follow thee, sweet Tom, I follow thee.
[Exit omnes.]