[Enter the Governour of the English house, Bagot, Banister, his wife, and two officers.] GOVERNOUR. Is Cromwell gone then, say you, master Bagot? What dislike, I pray? what was the cause? BAGOT. To tell you true, a wild brain of his own; Such youth as they cannot see when they are well: He is all bent to travail, that’s his reason, And doth not love to eat his bread at home. GOVERNOUR. 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? will you take my prise? BAGOT. O, sir, you offer too much underfoot. GOVERNOUR. Tis but two hundred pound between us, man. What’s that in payment of five thousand pound? BAGOT. Two hundred pound! birlady, sir, tis great: Before I got so much, it made me sweat. GOVERNOUR. Well, Master Bagot, I’ll profer 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 Hath fallen on him, may light on me or you— There is two hundred pound between us; 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 your self, And where naught is, the King must lose his right. BAGOT. Sir, sir, you speak out of your love, Tis foolish love, sir, sure, to pity him: Therefore, content your self; this is my mind: To do him good I will not bate a penny. BANISTER. This is my comfort: though thou doost no good, A mighty ebb follows a mighty flood. MISTRESS BANISTER. 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. BAGOT. Alas, fond woman, I pray thee, pray thy worst; The Fox fares better still when he is curst. [Enter Master Bowser, a Merchant.] GOVERNOUR. Master Bowser! you’re welcome, sir, from England. What’s the best news? how doth all our friends? BOWSER. They are all well and do commend them to you: There’s letters from your brother and your son: So fair you well, sir; I must take my leave. My haste and business doth require such. GOVERNOUR. Before you dine, sir? What, go you out of town? BOWSER. Aye, faith, unless I hear some news in town, I must away; there is no remedy. GOVERNOUR. Master Bowser, what is your business? may I know it?