Crom.
Thus far my reckoning doth go straight and even.
But, Cromwell, this same plodding fits not thee;
Thy mind is altogether set on travel,

And not to live thus cloyster'd like a nun.
It is not this same trash that I regard:
Experience is the jewel of my heart. Enter a Post.

Post.
I pray, sir, are you ready to dispatch me?

Crom.
Yes; here's those sums of money you must carry.
You go so far as Frankford, do you not?

Post.
I do, sir.

Crom.
Well, pr'ythee make then all the haste thou canst;
For there be certain English gentlemen
Are bound for Venice, and may happily want,
An if that you should linger by the way:
But in the hope that you will make good speed,
There's two angels, to buy you spurs and wands^{3 note}.

Post.
I thank you, sir; this will add wings indeed. [Exit Post.

Crom.
Gold is of power to make an eagle's speed. Enter Mrs. Banister.
What gentlewoman is this that grieves so much?
It seems she doth address herself to me.

Mrs. Ban.

God save you, sir. Pray is your name master Cromwell?

Crom.
My name is Thomas Cromwell, gentlewoman.

Mrs. Ban.
Know you one Bagot, sir, that's come to Antwerp?

Crom.
No, trust me, I ne'er saw the man; but here
Are bills of debt I have receiv'd against
One Banister, a merchant fall'n to decay.

Mrs. Ban.
Into decay indeed, 'long of that wretch.
I am the wife to woeful Banister,
And by that bloody villain am pursu'd,
From London, here to Antwerp. My husband
He is in the governour's hands; and God
Of heaven knows how he will deal with him.
Now, sir, your heart is fram'd of milder temper;
Be merciful to a distressed soul,
And God no doubt will treble bless your gain.

Crom.
Good mistress Banister, what I can, I will,
In any thing that lies within my power.

Mrs. Ban.
O speak to Bagot, that same wicked wretch:
An angel's voice may move a damned devil.

Crom.
Why is he come to Antwerp, as you hear?

Mrs. Ban.
I heard he landed some two hours since.

Crom.
Well, mistress Banister, assure yourself
I'll speak to Bagot in your own behalf,
And win him to all the pity that I can.
Mean time, to comfort you in your distress,
Receive these angels to relieve your need;
And be assur'd, that what I can effect,
To do you good, no way I will neglect.

Mrs. Ban.
That mighty God that knows each mortal's heart,
Keep you from trouble, sorrow, grief, and smart. [Exit Mistress Banister.

Crom.
Thanks, courteous woman, for thy hearty prayer.
It grieves my soul to see her misery:
But we that live under the work of fate,
May hope the best, yet know not to what state
Our stars and destinies have us assign'd;
Fickle is Fortune, and her face is blind. [Exit.

SCENE II. A street in Antwerp. Enter Bagot.

Bag.
So, all goes well; it is as I would have it.
Banister, he is with the governour,
And shortly shall have gyves upon his heels.
It glads my heart to think upon the slave;
I hope to have his body rot in prison,
And after hear his wife to hang herself,
And all his children die for want of food.
The jewels I have with me brought to Antwerp,
Are reckon'd to be worth five thousand pound;
Which scarcely stood me in three hundred pound.
I bought them at an easy kind of rate;
I care not much which way they came by them,
That sold them me; it comes not near my heart:
And lest they 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 hundred pound
Of all my price: but now no more of that.—
I must go see an if my bills be safe,
The which I sent before to master Cromwell;
That if the wind should keep me on the sea,
He might arrest him here before I came:
And in good time, see where he is. Enter Cromwell.
God save you sir.

Crom.
And you.—Pray pardon me, I know you not.

Bag.
It may be so, sir; but my name is Bagot;
The man that sent to you the bills of debt.

Crom.
O, you're 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 rul'd by me,
You should turn all these to the contrary:
Your heart should still have feeling of remorse^{4 note},
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^{5 note}
:
For every ill turn show yourself more kind;
Thus should I do; pardon, I speak my mind.

Bag.
Ay, 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^{6 note}

Crom.
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; if thy conscience were as clear,
Poor Banister ne'er had been troubled here.

Bag.
Nay, good master Cromwell, be not angry, sir,
I know full well that you are no such man;
But if your conscience were as white as snow,
It will be thought that you are otherwise.

Crom.
Will it be thought that I am otherwise?
Let them that think so, know they are deceiv'd.
Shall Cromwell live to have his faith misconstru'd?
Antwerp, for all the wealth within thy town,
I will not stay here full 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 travel,
To see the fruitful parts of Italy;
And as you ever bore a Christian mind,
Let Banister some favour of you find.

Bag.
For your sake, sir, I'll help him all I can—
To starve his heart out ere he gets a groat; [Aside.
So, master Cromwell, do I take my leave,
For I must straight unto the governour.

Crom.
Farewel, sir; pray you remember what I said. [Exit Bagot.
No, Cromwell, no; thy heart was ne'er so base,
To live by falshood, or by brokery.
But it falls out well; I little it repent;
Hereafter time in travel shall be spent. Enter Hodge.

Hodge.

Your son Thomas, quoth you! I have

been Thomass'd^{7 note}. I had thought it had been no such matter to ha' gone by water; for at Putney, I'll go you to Parish-Garden^{8 note} 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 miles in the great green water, but I, thinking to go to my afternoon's nuncheon, as 'twas my manner at home, felt a kind of rising in my guts. At last, one of the sailors spying of me—be of good cheer, says he; set down thy victuals, and up with it; thou hast nothing but an eel in thy belly. Well, to't went I, to my victuals went the sailors; and thinking me to be a man of better experience than any in the ship, ask'd 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, and 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.

Crom.
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, and Bess Make-water a race of ginger^{9 note}; my fellows Will and Tom hath between them sent you a dozen of points^{1 note}; and goodman Toll, of the goat* ^note, a pair of mittens: myself came in person; and this is all the news.

Crom.
Gramercy 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 say'st thou, Hodge? wilt thou bear me company?

Hodge.

Will I bear thee company, Tom? what tell'st me of Italy? Were it to the farthest 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 pass'd the rigorous waves of Neptune's blasts. I tell you, Thomas, I have been in danger of the floods; and when I have seen Boreas begin to play the ruffian with us^{2 note}

Crom.

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.

Crom.
A good conceit: but tell me, hast thou din'd yet?

Hodge.

Thomas, to speak the truth, not a bit yet, I.

Crom.
Come, go with me, thou shalt have cheer, good store;
And farewel, Antwerp, if I come no more.

Hodge.
I follow thee, sweet Tom, I follow thee. [Exeunt. SCENE III. Another street in the same. Enter the Governour of the English factory, Bagot, Mr. and Mrs. Banister, and two Officers.

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

Bag.
To tell you true, a wild brain of his own;
Such youth as he can't see when they are well.
He is all bent to travel, (that's his reason,)
And doth not love to eat his bread at home.

Gov.
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? what, will you take my price?

Bag.
O, sir, you offer too much under foot^{3 note}.

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

Bag.
Two hundred pound! by'r lady, sir, 'tis great;
Before I got so much, it made me sweat.

Gov.
Well, master Bagot, I'll proffer 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
Have fallen on him, may light on me or you)
There is two hundred pound between us two;
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 yourself;
And where nought is, the king must lose his right.

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

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

Mrs. Ban.
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.

Bag.
Alas, fond woman! I pr'ythee pray thy worst;
The fox fares better still when he is curst. Enter Bowser.

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

Bow.
They are all well, and do commend them to you.
There's letters from your brother and your son:

So, fare you well, sir; I must take my leave:
My haste and business doth require so.

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

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

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

Bow.
You may so, sir, and so shall all the city.
The king of late hath had his treasury robb'd,
And of the choicest jewels that he had:
The value of them was seven thousand pounds.
The fellow that did steal these jewels is hang'd;
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.

Ban.
How just is God to right the innocent!

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

Bag.

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

Bow.
Is this that Bagot? Fellows, bear him hence;
We will not now stand here for his reply.
Lade him with irons^{4 note}; we will have him try'd
In England, where his villanies are known.

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

Bow.
Away; bear him away; stop the slave's mouth. [Exeunt Officers and Bagot.

Mrs. Ban.
Thy works are infinite, great God of heaven.

Gov.
I heard this Bagot was a wealthy fellow.

Bow.
He was indeed; for when his goods were seiz'd,
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 distrained for the king,
He frankly gave it to the Antwerp merchants;
And they again, out of their bounteous mind;
Have to a brother of their company,
A man decay'd by fortune of the seas,
Given Bagot's wealth, to set him up again,
And keep it for him; his name is Banister.

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

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

Ban.
You have given life unto a man deem'd dead;
For by these news my life is newly bred.

Mrs. Ban.
Thanks to my God, next to my sovereign king;
And last to you, that these good news do bring.

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

Bow.
And, master Banister, if so you please,
I'll bear you company, when you cross the seas.

Ban.
If it please you, sir;—my company is but mean:
Stands with your liking, I will wait on you^{5 note}.

Gov.
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. [Exeunt.

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