_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.

_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 ma.s.s, 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 pet.i.tion.

_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.

_Enter_ Jaculin.

Now for my Love, for sure this Wench must be she, She follows me; Come hither, pretty _Minche_.

_Jac._ No, no, you'll kiss.

_Hub._ So I will.

_Jac._ Y'ded law?

How will ye kiss me, pray you?

_Hub._ Thus, soft as my loves lips.

_Jac._ Oh!

_Hub._ What's your Father's name?

_Jac._ He's gone to Heaven.

_Hub._ Is it not _Gerrard_, Sweet?

_Jac._ I'll stay no longer; My Mother's an old Woman, and my Brother Was drown'd at Sea, with catching c.o.c.kles. O Love!

O how my heart melts in me: how thou fir'st me!

_Hub._ 'Tis certain she; pray let me see your hand, Sweet?

_Jac._ No, no, you'l bite it.

_Hub._ Sure I should know that Gymmal!