Fres.
O Frescobald, what shall become of thee?
Where shalt thou go, or which way shalt thou turn?
Fortune, that turns her too unconstant wheel,
Hath turn'd thy wealth and riches in the sea.
All parts abroad wherever I have been

Grow weary of me, and deny me succour.
My debtors, they that should relieve my want,
Forswear my money^{6 note}, say they owe me none;
They know my state too mean to bear out law:
And here in London, where I oft have been,
And have done good to many a wretched man,
I am now most wretched here, despis'd myself.
In vain it is more of their hearts to try;
Be patient therefore, lay thee down and die. [Lies down. Enter Seely and Joan.

Seely.

Come Joan, come; let's see what he'll do for us now. I wis we have done for him^{7 note}, when many a time and often he might have gone a-hungry to bed.

Joan.

Alas man, now he is made a lord, he'll never look upon us; he'll fulfill the old proverb, Set beggars a horseback and they'll ride—A well-a-day for my cow! such as he hath made us come behind hand; we had never pawn'd our cow else to pay our rent.

Seely.

Well Joan, he'll come this way; and by God's dickers I'll tell him roundly of it, an if he were ten lords: 'a shall know that I had not my cheese and my bacon for nothing.

Joan.

Do you remember, husband, how he would mouch up my cheese-cakes^{8 note}

? He hath forgot this now; but now we'll remember him^{9 note}
.

Seely.

Ay, we shall have now three flaps with a fox-tail: but i'faith I'll jibber a joint^{1 note}

Hodge.

Come; away with these beggars here. Rise up, sirrah; come out, good people; run afore there ho.

Seely.

Ay, we are kick'd away, now we come for our own; the time hath been, he would ha' look'd more friendly upon us: And you, Hodge, we know you well enough, though you are so fine.

Crom.
Come hither, sirrah:—Stay, what men are these?

My honest host of Hounslow, and his wife?
I owe thee money, father, do I not?

Seely.

Ay, by the body of me, dost thou. Would thou would'st pay me: good four pound it is; I hav't o' the post at home^{2 note}

.

Crom.
I know 'tis true. Sirrah, give him ten angels:—
And look your wife and you do stay to dinner^{3 note};
And while you live, I freely give to you
Four pound a year, for the four pound I ought you.

Seely.

Art not chang'd? Art old Tom still? Now God bless thee, good lord Tom. Home Joan, home; I'll dine with my lord Tom to day, and thou shalt come next week. Fetch my cow; home Joan, home.

Joan.

Now God bless thee, my good lord Tom: I'll fetch my cow presently.

Crom.

Sirrah, go to yon stranger; tell him, I Desire him stay to dinner: I must speak With him.

Gard.

My lord of Norfolk, see you this Same bubble? that same puff? but mark the end, My lord; mark the end.

Nor.
I promise you, I like not something he hath done:
But let that pass; the king doth love him well.

Crom.
Good morrow to my lord of Winchester: I know
You bear me hard about the abbey lands.

Gard.
Have I not reason, when religion's wrong'd?
You had no colour for what you have done.

Crom.
Yes, the abolishing of antichrist,
And of his popish order from our realm.
I am no enemy to religion;
But what is done, it is for England's good.
What did they serve for, but to feed a sort
Of lazy abbots and of full-fed fryars^{4 note}
?
They neither plow nor sow, and yet they reap
The fat of all the land, and suck the poor.
Look, what was theirs is in king Henry's hands;
His wealth before lay in the abbey lands.

Gard.
Indeed these things you have alledg'd, my lord;
When, God doth know, the infant yet unborn
Will curse the time the abbies were pull'd down.
I pray now where is hospitality?
Where now may poor distressed people go,
For to relieve their need, or rest their bones,
When weary travel doth oppress their limbs?
And where religious men should take them in,
Shall now be kept back with a mastiff dog;
And thousand thousand—

Nor.
O my lord, no more:

Things past redress 'tis bootless to complain^{5 note}

.

Crom.
What, shall we to the convocation-house?

Nor.
We'll follow you, my lord; pray lead the way. Enter old Cromwell, in the dress of a farmer.

Old Crom.

How! one Cromwell made lord keeper, since I left Putney, and dwelt in Yorkshire? I never heard better news: I'll see that Cromwell, or it shall go hard.

Crom.
My aged father! State then set aside,
Father, upon my knee I crave your blessing.
One of my servants, go, and have him in;
At better leisure will we talk with him.

Old Crom.
Now if I die, how happy were the day!
To see this comfort, rains forth showers of joy. [Exeunt old Cromwell and Servant.

Nor.
This duty in him shows a kind of grace. [Aside.

Crom.
Go on before, for time draws on apace. [Exeunt all but Frescobald.

Fres.
I wonder what this lord would have with me,
His man so strictly gave me charge to stay:
I never did offend him to my knowledge.
Well, good or bad, I mean to bide it all;
Worse than I am, now never can befall. Enter Banister and his wife.

Ban.
Come, wife,
I take it to be almost dinner time;
For master Newton, and master Crosby sent
To me last night, they would come dine with me,
And take their bond in. I pray thee, hie thee home,
And see that all things be in readiness.

Mrs. Ban.
They shall be welcome, husband; I'll go before:
But is not that man master Frescobald? [She runs and embraces him.

Ban.
O heavens! it is kind master Frescobald:
Say, sir, what hap hath brought you to this pass?

Fres.
The same that brought you to your misery.

Ban.
Why would you not acquaint me with your state?
Is Banister your poor friend then forgot,
Whose goods, whose love, whose life and all is yours?

Fres.
I thought your usage would be as the rest,
That had more kindness at my hands than you,
Yet look'd askance when as they saw me poor.

Mrs. Ban.
If Banister would bear so base a heart,
I ne'er would look my husband in the face,
But hate him as I would a cockatrice.

Ban.
And well thou might'st, should Banister deal so.
Since that I saw you, sir, my state is mended;
And for the thousand pound I owe to you,
I have it ready for you, sir, at home:
And though I grieve your fortune is so bad,
Yet that my hap's to help you, makes me glad.
And now, sir, will it please you walk with me?

Fres.
Not yet I cannot, for the lord chancellor
Hath here commanded me to wait on him:
For what I know not; pray God it be for good.

Ban.
Never make doubt of that; I'll warrant you,
He is as kind a noble gentleman,
As ever did possess the place he hath.

Mrs. Ban.
Sir, my brother is his steward: if you please,
We'll go along and bear you company;
I know we shall not want for welcome there.

Fres.
With all my heart: but what's become of Bagot?

Ban.
He is hang'd for buying jewels of the king's.

Fres.
A just reward for one so impious.
The time draws on: sir, will you go along?

Ban.
I'll follow you, kind master Frescobald. [Exeunt.

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