_Ger._ We'll fly to what place you please. _Gos._ No Star prosperous! All at a swoop? _Ger._ You do not love me _Goswin_? You will not look upon me? _Gos._ Can mens Prayers Shot up to Heaven, with such a zeal as mine are, Fall back like lazy mists, and never prosper? Jives I must wear, and cold must be my comfort; Darkness, and want of meat; alas she weeps too, Which is the top of all my sorrows, _Gertrude_. _Ger._ No, no, you will not know me; my poor beauty, Which has been worth your eyes. _Gos._ The time grows on still; And like a tumbling wave, I see my ruine Come rowling over me. _Ger._ Yet will ye know me? _Gos._ For a hundred thousand Crowns. _Ger._ Yet will ye love me? Tell me but how I have deserv'd your slighting? _Gos._ For a hundred thousand Crowns? _Ger._ Farewel Dissembler. _Gos._ Of which I have scarce ten: O how it starts me! _Ger._ And may the next you love, hearing my ruine. _Gos._ I had forgot my self, O my best _Gertrude_, Crown of my joys and comforts. _Ger._ Sweet what ails ye? I thought you had been vext with me. _Gos._ My mind, Wench, My mind o'rflow'd with sorrow, sunk my memory. _Ger._ Am I not worthy of the knowledge of it? And cannot I as well affect your sorrows, As your delights? you love no other Woman? _Gos._ No, I protest. _Ger._ You have no ships lost lately? _Gos._ None, that I know of. _Ger._ I hope you have spilt no blood, whose innocence May lay this on your conscience. _Gos._ Clear, by Heaven. _Ger._ Why should you be thus then? _Gos._ Good _Gertrude_ ask not, Ev'n by the love you bear me. _Ger._ I am obedient. _Gos._ Go in, my fair, I will not be long from ye, Nor long I fear me with thee. At my return Dispose me as you please. _Ger._ The good gods guide ye. [_Exit._ _Gos._ Now for my self, which is the least I hope for, And when that fails, for mans worst fortune, pity. [_Exit._ _ACTUS QUARTUS. SCENA PRIMA._ _Enter_ Goswin _and_ 4. Merchants. _Gos._ Why gentlemen, 'tis but a week more, I intreat you But 7. short days, I am not running from ye; Nor, if you give me patience, is it possible All my adventures fail; you have ships abroad Endure the beating both of Wind and Weather: I am sure 'twould vex your hearts, to be protested; Ye are all fair Merchants. _1 Mer._ Yes, and must have fair play: There is no living here else; one hour's failing Fails us of all our friends, of all our credits: For my part, I would stay, but my wants tell me, I must wrong others in't. _Gos._ No mercy in ye! _2 Mer._ 'Tis foolish to depend on others mercy: Keep your self right, and even cut your cloth, Sir, According to your calling, you have liv'd here, In Lord-like Prodigality, high, and open, And now ye find what 'tis: the liberal spending The Summer of your Youth, which you should glean in, And like the labouring Ant, make use and gain of, Has brought this bitter, stormy Winter on ye, And now you cry.