_3 Mer._ Alas, before your Poverty, We were no men, of no mark, no endeavour; You stood alone, took up all trade, all business Running through your hands, scarce a Sail at Sea, But loaden with your Goods: we poor weak Pedlers; When by your leave, and much intreaty to it, We could have stowage for a little Cloath, Or a few Wines, put off, and thank your Worship. Lord, how the World's chang'd with ye? now I hope, Sir, We shall have Sea-room. _Gos._ Is my misery Become my scorn too! have ye no humanity? No part of men left? are all the Bounties in me To you, and to the Town, turn'd my reproaches? _4 Mer._ Well, get your moneys ready: 'tis but 2 hours; We shall protest ye else, and suddenly. _Gos._ But two days. _1 Mer._ Not an hour, ye know the hazard. [_Exeunt._ _Gos._ How soon my light's put out! hard hearted _Bruges_! Within thy Walls may never honest Merchant Venture his fortunes more: O my poor Wench too. _Enter_ Gerrard. _Ger._ Good fortune, Master. _Gos._ Thou mistak'st me, _Clause_, I am not worth thy Blessing. _Ger._ Still a sad man! _Enter_ Higgen _and_ Prigg, _like_ Porters. No belief gentle Master? come bring it in then, And now believe your Beadsman. _Gos._ Is this certain? Or dost thou work upon my troubled sense? _Ger._ 'Tis gold, Sir, Take it and try it. _Gos._ Certainly 'tis treasure; Can there be yet this Blessing? _Ger._ Cease your wonder, You shall not sink, for ne'r a sowst Flap-dragon, For ne'r a pickl'd Pilcher of 'em all, Sir, 'Tis there, your full sum, a hundred thousand crowns: And good sweet Master, now be merry; pay 'em, Pay the poor pelting Knaves, that know no goodness: And chear your heart up handsomely. _Gos._ Good _Clause_, How cam'st thou by this mighty Sum? if naughtily, I must not take it of thee, 'twill undo me. _Ger._ Fear not, you have it by as honest means As though your father gave it: Sir, you know not To what a mass, the little we get daily, Mounts in seven years; we beg it for Heavens charity, And to the same good we are bound to render it. _Gos._ What great security? _Ger._ Away with that, Sir, Were not ye more than all the men in _Bruges_; And all the money in my thoughts-- _Gos._ But good _Clause_, I may dye presently. _Ger._ Then this dies with ye: Pay when you can good Master, I'll no Parchments, Only this charity I shall entreat you; Leave me this Ring. _Gos._ Alas, it is too poor, _Clause_. _Ger._ 'Tis all I ask, and this withal, that when I shall deliver this back, you shall grant me Freely one poor petition. _Gos._ There, I confirm it, [_Gives the Ring._ And may my faith forsake me when I shun it. _Ger._ Away, your time draws on. Take up the money, And follow this young Gentleman. _Gos._ Farewell _Clause_, And may thy honest memory live for ever. _Ger._ Heaven bless you, and still keep you, farewel Master. [_Exeunt._ SCENE II. _Enter_ Hubert. _Hub._ I have lockt my Youth up close enough for gadding, In an old Tree, and set watch over him.