THE Second Part of, If you know not me, you know nobody.  
With the building of the Royal EXCHANGE:  
And the famous Victory of Queen Elizabeth, in the Year 1588.  
AT LONDON, Printed for Nathaniel Butter. 1606.   

The second Part of If you know not me, you know nobody: With the building of the Exchange.  

Actus Prima. Scena Prima.  Enter one of Gresham's Factors and a Barbary Merchant. Factor. 
MY Master sir, requests your company,  
About confirming certain covenants  
Touching your last night's conference.  Marchant. 
The Sugars.  
Believe me, to his credit be it spoke,  
He is a man of heedful providence,  
And one that by innative courtesy  
Wins love from Strangers, be it without offence,  
How are his present fortunes reckoned?  Fact. 
Neither to flatter nor detract from him,  
He is a Merchant of good estimate,  
Care how to get, and forecast to increase,  
(If so they be accounted) be his faults.  Mar. 
They are especial virtues, being clear  
From avarice and base extortion.  
But here he comes: Good day, to M. Gresham,  
You keep your word.  Enter Gresham. Gresh. 
Else should I ill deserve  
The title that I wear, a merchants tongue  
Should not strike false.  Mar. 
What think you of my proffer,  
Touching the Sugar?  Gresh. 
I be thought myself  
Both of the gain and losses incident,  
And this I take't was the whole circumstance:  
It was my motion and I think your promise,  
To get me a sealed Patent from your king  
For all your barbary Sugar at a price,  
During the king's life; and for his princely love,  
I am to send him threescore thousand pounds.  Mar: 
'twas so conditioned, and to that effect  
His highness promise is already past,  
And if you dare give credit to my trust,  
Send but your private letters to your Factor,  
That deals for your affairs in barbary,  
His Majesty shall either seal your Patent,  
Or i'll return the money to your Factor.  Gresh. 
As much as I desire; pray sir draw near  
And taste a cup of wine, whilst I consider  
And thoroughly scan such accidental doubts,  
As may concern a matter of such moment.  Mar: 
At your best leisure.  Gresh: 
I'll resolve you straight.  
Bethink thee Gresham, threescore thousand pounds  
A good round sum: let not the hope of gain  
Draw thee to loss. I am to have a Patent  
For all the barbary Sugars at a rate,  
The gain clears half in half, but then the hazard:  
My term continues during the king's life,  
The King may die before my first return,  
Then where's my Cash? why, so the King may live  
These 40. years, then where is Gresham's gain:  
It stands in this as in all ventures else  
Doubtful, no more, i'll through whate'er it cost.  
So much clear gain, or so much coin clear lost.  
Within there ho.  Enter john Gresham, 2. or 3. Factors. Factor 
At hand sir, did you call?  Gresh. 
How thrives our Cash? what is it well increased?  
I speak like one that must be forced to borrow.  1. Fact. 
Your worship's merry.  Gresh. 
Merry, tell me knave,  
Dost not thou think that three score thousand pounds,  
Would make an honest Merchant try his friends?  Fact. 
Yes, by my faith sir, but you have a friend  
Would not see you stand out for twice the sum.  Gresh. 
Praise God for all, but what's the common rumor  
Touching my bargain with the King of barbary?  1. Fact. 
'tis held your credit, and your country's honour,  
That being but a Merchant of the City,  
And taken in a manner unprovided,  
You should upon a mere presumption  
And naked promise, part with so much Cash,  
Which the best Merchants both in Spain and France,  
Denied to venture on.  Gresh. 
Good: but withal,  
What do they think in general of the Bargain?  1. Fact. 
That if the King confirm and seal your Patent,  
London will yield you partners enough.  Gresh. 
I think no less: Go fit you for the sea,  
I mean to send you into barbary:  
You unto Venice, You to Portingale,  
Provide you presently: where much is spent,  
Some must be got, thrift should be provident:  
Come hither cousin, all the rest depart.  Exeunt Factors. john. 
I had as good depart too, for he'll ring a peal in mine  
'twill sound worse than a passing bell. (care,  Gresh. 
I have ta'en note of your bad husbandry,  
Careless respect, and prodigal expense,  
And out of my experience counsel you.  john. 
And I hope good Uncle, you think, I am as ready to take good counsel, as you to give it, & I doubt not, but to clear, myself of all objections that foul-mouthed envy shall intimate against me.  Gres. 
How can you satisfy the great complaint  
Preferred against you by old Mistress Blunt.  
A woman of approved honesty.  john. 
That's true, her honesty hath been proved ofter than once or twice: but do you know her Uncle? are you inward with her course of life, she's a common midwife for trade-fallen virginity, there are more maidenheads charged and discharged in her house in a year, than pieces at the Artillery yard.  Gres. 
She bring sin further proof, that you miscalled her.  john. 
I never called her out of name, by this hand Uncle, to my remembrance:  Gres. 
No: she says you called her Bawd.  john. 
True; and I have known her answer to't a thousand times; tut Uncle 'tis her name, and I know who gave it her too, by the same token her Godfather gave her a bowed angel standing at the door which she hath kept time out a mind.  Gresh. 
Antonio reports you love his wife.  john. 
Love, why alas, Uncle, I hold it parcel of my duty to love my neighbours, and should I hate his wife, no man would hold me a fit member for a common wealth.  Gresh. 
He hates you for't.  john. 
Why, alas Uncle, that's not my fault, i'll love him ne'ertheless, you know we are commanded to love our enemies, and though he would see me hanged, yet will I love his wife.  Gresh. 
He told me, you bestowed a gown of a strumpet.  john. 
Why, alas Uncle, the poor whore went naked, and you know the text commands us to clothe the naked, and deeds of mercy be imputed to us for faults, God help the elect.  Gresh. 
Well, if your prodigal expenses be aimed  
At any virtuous and religious end,  
'tis the more tolerable, and I am proud  
You can so probably excuse yourself.  john. 
Well Uncle to approve my words, as indeed good words without deeds are like your green figtree without fruit. I have sworn myself to a more conformable and strict course of life.  Gresh. 
Well cousin, hoping you'll prove a new man.  john. 
A new man, what else Uncle, I'll be a new man from the top to toe, or i'll want of my will: Instead of Tennis-Court, my morning Exercise shallbe at Saint Antline's: i'll leave Ordinaries, and to the end I may forswear Dicing and Drabbing, keep me more short Uncle, only allow me good apparel, good Rags i'll stand to't are better than seven years prenticeship, for they'll make a man free of any, nay of all Companies without Indenture, Father's copy, or any help whatsoever, but I see my error, wild Youth must be bridled, keep me short good Uncle.  Gresh. 
On these presumptions i'll apparel thee,  
And to confirm this resolution,  
I will prefer you unto Master Hobson,  
A man of a well known discretion.  john. 
Any thing good Uncle, I have served my prenticeship already, but bind me again and I shall be content, and 'tis but reason neither, send me to the Conduit with the water-tankard, i'll beat Linen, Bucks, or any thing to redeem my negligence.  Gresh. 
Your education challenge more respect.  
The Factor dealt for him in France, is dead.  john. 
And you intend to send me in his room,  Gresh. 
I do indeed.  john. 
I 'tis well done Uncle, and 'twill not be amiss in policy to do so: the only way to curb a dissolute youth as I am, is to send him from his acquaintance, and therefore send me far enough good Uncle, send me into France and spare not, and if that reclaim me not, give me over as one past all goodness.  Gresh. 
Now afore God my thoughts were much against him,  
And my intent was to have chid him roundly,  
But his submissive recantation.  
Hath made me friends with him, Come follow me,  
I'll do thee good, and that immediately.  Exit. john: 
Thank you good Uncle, you'll send me into France, all Forboone: and I do not show you the right trick of a cousin afore I leave England, i'll give you leave to call me Cut, and cozen me of my patrimony as you have done.  Exit. Enter Hobson's prentices and a boy. 1. Prent. 
Prithee fellow Goodman, set forth the ware, and look to the shop a little, I'll but drink a cup of wine with a Customer at the Rose and Crown in the Poultry, and come again presently.  2. Pren. 
Foot I cannot, I must needs step to the Dagger in Cheap to send a Letter into the Country unto my father, stand by, you are the youngest prentice, look you to the shop.  Enter Hobson! 
Where be these varlets, bones a me, at Tavern?  
knaves, villains, spend goods, foot my Customers  
Must either serve themselves, or pack unserved.  
Now they peep like Italian pantaloons  
Behind an Arras, but i'll start you knaves,  
I have a shooing-horn to draw on your liquour,  
What say you to a piece of a salt Eel?  
Come forth you hangdogs, bones a me the knaves  
Fleer in my face, they know me to too well,  
I talk and prate, and lay't not on their jacks,  
And the proud jacks care not a fig for me:  
But bones a me, i'll turn another leaf.  
Where have you been sir?  1. Pren. 
An honest Customer  
Requested me, to drink a pint of wine.  Hob. 
Bones a me, must your crimson throat  
Be scoured with wine? your master's glad of beer:  
But you'll die bankrupts, knaves, and banquerouts.  
And where have you been?  2. Pren. 
At breakfast with a Dagger pie sir.  Hob. 
A Dagger Pie! ud's daggers death, these knaves  
Set cock a hope, but Hobson pays for all.  
But bones a me, knaves either mend your manners.  
Leave Alehouses, taverns, and the tippling mates,  
Your Punks, and cockatrices, or i'll clap ye  
Close up in Bride well, bones of me I'll do't,  2. Pren. 
Beseech you sir, pardon this first offence.  Hob. 
First, bones a God, why 'tis your common course,  
And you must needs be gusling, go by turns,  
One to the Alehouse, and two keep the shop.  Enter peddler with Tawnycoat. 2. Pren. 
It shall be done sir, how much ware you'd you have?  Ped. 
Five pounds worth in such Commodities,  
as I bespoke last night.  1. Pren. 
They are ready sorted.  Taw. 
God bless you M. Hobson.  Hob. 
Bones a god, knave, thouart welcome what's the news  
At bawdy Barnewell, and at Sturbridge Fair?  
What, have your London wenches any trading?  Taw. 
After the old sort sir, they visit the tollbooth, and the  
bullring still.  Hob. 
Good girls, they do their kind, what your packs empty?  
Good news, a sign you bring your purses full,  
And bones a God, full purses must be welcome:  
Sort out their wares: welcome's your due:  
Pay the old debt, and pen and ink for new.  Taw. 
We have for you sir, as white as bears teeth.  Hob. 
Bones a god, knaves you are welcome, but what news?  
What news i'the Country? what Commodities  
Are most respected with your country Girls?  Taw. 
Faith sir, our Country girls are a kin to your London Courtiers, every month sick of a new fashion, the horning busk and silken bride-laces are in good request with the Parsons wife, your huge poking stick, and french periwig, with Chambermaids, and waiting-gentlewomen, now your Puritans poker is not so huge, but somewhat longer, a long slender poking stick is the all in all with your Suffolk Puritan, your silkband, half farthingales, and changeable Foreparts are common, not a wench of thirteen but wears a changeable forepart.  Hob. 
An ancient wearing: there's some changeable stuff  
Has been a wear with women, time out of mind.  Taw. 
Besides sir, many of our young married men, have ta'en an order to wear yellow Garters, Points, & shoe-tyings, and us thought, yellow will grow a custom.  Hob: 
T'as been used long at London.  Tow. 
And 'tis thought 'twill come in request in the Country too, 'tis a fashion, that three or four young wenches have promised me their husbands shall wear, or they'll miss of their marks: than your mask, silk-lace, wash't Gloves, carnation girdles, and busk-point suitable, as common as Coals from Newcastle, you shall not have a Kitchenmaid scrape trenchers without her wash't Gloves, a dairy-wench will not ride to market to sell her Buttermilk, without her mask and her busk.  Hob. 
Still a good hearing, let the country pay  
Well for their pride, 'tis gratis here at London,  
And that's the cause 'tis grown so general.  
But feed their humours, and do not spare,  
Bring Country-money for our London ware.  Enter Gresham, and john Gresham. Gresh. 
Where's M. Hobson, cry you mercy sir.  Hob. 
No harm good M. Gresham, pray draw near:  
I'll but dispatch a few old Customers,  
And bend a present ear to your discourse.  Gresh. 
At your best leisure.  Hob. 
Nay my task is done:  
O M. Gresham 'twas a golden world  
When we were Boys, an honest Country-yeoman,  
Such as our fathers were, God rest their souls  
Would were white Karfie: bones a me you knaves,  
Stools for these Gentlemen, your worships welcome.  Gresh. 
You know my business.  Hob. 
About your kinsman,  
He shall be welcome: beseech you Gentlemen  
Less of your courtesy: when shall we see the Youth?  Gresh. 
Why this is he.  Hob. 
Which, bones a me man, which?  Gresh. 
Why this.  Hob. 
Which, where, what this young gentleman!  
Bones a me man, he's not for Hobson's turn.  
He looks more like my Master then my servant.  Gresh. 
I must confess he is a Gentleman,  
And my near kinsman: were he mine own child,  
His service should be yours.  Hob. 
I thank you for't,  
And for your sake i'll give him entertainment?  
But Gentleman if you become my man,  
You must become more civil: bones a me,  
What a curled pate is here? I must hait off,  
You see my Livery, Hobson's men are known  
By their Freeze Coats: and you will dwell with me,  
You must be plain, and leave of bravery.  john. 
I hope sir to put on such civil conformity, as you shall not repent my entertainment.  Hob. 
Pray God it prove so.  Gresh: 
If he do respect  
an uncles love, let him be diligent.  Hob. 
well, M. Gresham, partly for your love,  
And chiefly to supply my present want,  
Because you say your kinsman is well seen  
Both in languages and factorship,  
I do intend to send him into France,  
In trust both with my Marchandzies and my Cash.  john. 
And if I take not order to cashier that and myself too, a pox of all French-farthingales.  Gresh. 
How stand you minded to your Master's motion?  john. 
Somewhat unwilling to leave my acquaintance, but good Uncle, I know you send me out of love, and I hope 'twill be a means to call me home the sooner.  Gresh. 
Pray God it may.  john. 
I'll want of my will else, I'll play a merchants part with you, i'll take up french Commodities, velvet kirtles, and taffery foreparts; i'll ha' that I go for, or i'll make half the hothouses in Deep smoke for this trick.  Hob. 
What are your books made even with your accounts?  1 Pren. 
I have compared our wares with our receipt,  
And, sinned sir, ten pounds difference.  Hob. 
Bones a me knave,  
Ten pounds in a morning: here's the fruit  
Of Dagger Pies, and alehouse-guzzlings:  
Make even your Reckonings, or God's mother knaves,  
You shall all smart for't.  2. 
Hark you fellow Goodman,  
Who took the ten pound of the country Chapman.  
That told my master the new fashions?  1. 
Fore God not I.  3. 
Nor I.  Hob. 
Bones a me, knaves,  
I have paid soundly for my Country news:  
What was his name?  1. 
Now afore God, I know not.  2. 
I never saw him in the shop till now.  Hob. 
Now bones a me, what careless Knaves keep I,  
Give me the book, what habit did he were?  1. 
As I remember me, a tawny coat.  Hob. 
Art sure: then set him down john Tawnycoat.  1. 
Ten pound in trust unto john Tawnycoat.  Hob. 
Bones a God man, these knaves will beggar me.  Gresh. 
by’r lady sir, ten pounds is too much to lose,  
But ten times ten pound cannot shake your credit.  Hob. 
Thank God for all: when I came first to town,  
It would have shook me shrewdly: but M. Gresham.  
How stands your difference with Sir Thomas Ramsey?  
Are you made friends yet?  Gresh. 
He is so obstinate,  
That neither juries, nor Commissions,  
Nor the entreaties of his nearest friends,  
Can stoop him unto composition.  Hob. 
'tis passing strange: were Hobson in your coat,  
Ere i'd consume a penny amongst Lawyers,  
I'd giv't poor people, bones a me I would.  Gresh. 
A good resolve: but sit Thomas Ramsey's mind  
Is of another temper, and ere Gresham  
Will give away a tittle of his right,  
The Law shall beggar me.  Hob. 
Bones a me, man, 'twill do that quickly.  Gresh. 
To prevent which course,  
The Lady Ramsey hath by earnest suit,  
Procured the reverent Preacher Doctor Nowell,  
A man well reckoned for his grave respect.  
To compromise and end our difference,  
The place the Lombard, ten of clock the hour  
Appointed for the hearing of our cause.  
Shall I request your friendly company,  Hob. 
With all my heart, both company and purse:  
Bones a me, knaves, look better to my shop:  
Men of our trade must wear good husbands eyes,  
'mongst many Chapmen there are few that buys.  
My leisure now your business attends,  
Time's won not lost, that's spent to make men friends.  Exeunt. Enter Doctor Nowell, and my Lady Ramsie. Lady. 
Good Master Doctor Nowell, let your love  
Now show itself unto me: such as they,  
Men of the chiefest note within this City  
To be at such a jar, doth make me blush  
Whom it doth scarce concern: you are a good man,  
Take you the course in hand and make them friends,  
'twill be a good days work, if so it end.  D. Now. 
My Lady Ramsey, I have heard ere this  
Of their contentions, their long suit in Law,  
How by good friends they have been persuaded both,  
Yet both but deaf to fair persuasion:  
What good will my word do with headstrong men?  
Breath blown against the wind, returns again.  Lady. 
Although to Gentlemen and Citizens,  
They have been so rash, yet to so grave a man,  
Of whom none speak but speak with reverence,  
Whose words are gathered in by every ear  
As flowers receive the dew that comfort them,  
They will be more attentive: pray take it in hand,  
'tis a good deed, 'twill with your virtue stand.  D. Now. 
To be a make-peace doth become me well,  
The charitable motion good in you,  
And in good sooth 'twill make me wet mine eyes,  
To see them even, have been so long at odds.  
And by my means, i'll do the best I can,  
But God must bless my words, for man's but man.  Enter Sir Thomas Ramsie. Lady. 
I thank you heartily, and by the hour I know.  
They will be presently here on the Lombard,  
Whither I drew you for this intent:  
And see, sir Thomas is come: pray break with him.  D. Now. 
Good day to sir Thomas Ramsey.  Ram. 
M. Deane of Paul's, as much to you:  
'tis strange to see you here in Lumber-street,  
This place of traffic whereon Merchants meet.  D. Now. 
'tis not my custom: but sir Thomas.  Enter M. Gresham, and old Hobson. Hob. Come, come: 
Now body a me, I swear not every day,  
You are too too much to blame: two Citizens,  
Such as yourself, and sir Thomas Ramsey are,  
To beat yourselves in Law six or seven year,  
Make Lawyers, Turneys clerks, and knaves, to spend  
Your money in a brabbling controversy,  
Even like too fools: see where the other is,  
With our Dean of Paul's, near better met,  
We two as Umpires will conclude a strife  
Before the Clock strike twelve, that now is eleven:  
Lawyers this full seven year have brabbled in,  
And with a cup or two of merry-godown,  
Make them shake hands: Is't not well said M. Deane?  D. Now. 
And I could wish it as well done, M. Hobson.  Gresh. 
I'll have you both know though you are my friends,  
I scorn my cause should stoop or ye'll to him,  
Although he be reputed Ramsey the rich.  Ram. 
And Gresham shall perceive that Ramsey's purse,  
Shall make him spend the wealth of Osterley,  
But he shall know.  Gresh. 
Know, what shall I know?  Ram. 
That Ramsey is as good a man as Gresham.  Gresh. 
And Gresham is as good a man as Ramsey.  Ram. 
Tut, tut, tut, Gresh Tut in thy teeth although thou art  Hob. 
Bones a me, you are both to blame: (a Knight.  
We two like friends, come to conclude your strife,  
And you like fishwives fall a scolding here.  D. Now. 
How stands the difference twixt you my good friends?  Lady. 
The impatience both of the one and other,  
Will not permit to hear each other speak:  
I'll tell the cause for both, and thus it is.  
There is a Lordship called Osterley,  
That M. Gresham hath both bought and built upon.  Gresh. 
And 'tis a goodly Manor, M. Deane.  Lady. 
Which Osterley before he dealt therein,  
Sir Thomas my husband here did think to buy,  
And had given earnest for it.  Ram. 
Then Gresham here, deals with the Land-seller,  
And buys my bargain most dishonestly.  Gres. 
God for his mercy touch mine honesty,  
Away with compromise, with taking up,  
The Law shall try my cause and honesty.  Ram. 
'twill prove no better than it should Gresham.  Gres. 
'twill prove as good as Ramsey's, Ramsey.  Ram. 
Do not I know thy rising?  Gres. 
ay, and I know thine.  Ram. 
Why mine was honestly.  Gresh. 
And so was mine.  Hob. 
hay day, bones a me  
Was't ever seen two men to scold before?  
Here's, I know thy rising, and I know thine,  
whenas God's blessing, that hath raised them both.  
Am I worse because in Edward's days,  
When Popery went down, I did engross  
Most of the Beads that were within the Kingdom,  
That when Queen Mary, had renewed that Church,  
They that would pray on Beads were forced to me:  
I made them stretch their purse-strings, grew rich thereby,  
Beads were to me a good commodity.  Gresh. 
No matter for your beads, my right's my right.  Ram. 
Yet Gresham shall well know he hath done me wrong.  Gresh. 
there's law enough to right you, take your course.  D. Now. 
Reason being made man's guide, why is't that force  
Are violent passions to sweep the soul  
Into such headlong mischiefs: 'tis only this,  
Reason would rule, Nature a Rebel is.  
You know the fire of your contention,  
Hath only cherishing and is maintained  
From vild affections, whose strength's but thus  
As sultry heat doth make us shun the fire,  
An extreme cold doth alter that desire:  
All things that have beginnings, have their ends.  
Your hate must have conclusion, then be friends.  Hob. 
Friends, M. Doctor Nowell, look you here,  
here's M. Gresham's hand.  Lady. 
I'll bring the other.  Hob. 
This seven year they have been in law together.  
How much such men as they in seven years spend,  
lawyers may laugh at, but let wise men judge.  Gresh. 
Friend Hobson.  Ram. 
Wife Lady.  Hob. 
Bones a me, i'll hold you fast,  
I will not have a couple of such men  
Make cackling lawyers rich, and themselves fools,  
And for a trifling cause: as I am old Hobson.  Gresh. 
Sir Thomas Ramsey's.  Ram. 
Master Gresham.  Hob. 
Body of me, both shall be schooled, M. D. Nowell,  
You know the cause that this contention,  
Is only that he bought a piece of land  
This had given earnest for, all Adam's earth,  
And Adam's earth is free for Adam's sons,  
And 'tis a shame men should contend for it:  
whate'er you speak shall for a sentence stand,  
And being spoke, they shall shake hand in hand.  D. Now. 
If I must then decide the difference,  
Thus it shall be: because that Sir Thomas Ramsey's,  
Had earnest given before you bought the Land,  
Though you were not acquainted with so much,  
I do award he have a hundred pound  
Toward his charges, and for that you  
Have both paid for the Land, and built upon it,  
It shall continue yours: the money you have spent,  
Either account it lost, or badly lent.  Gresh. 
God's precious, I have spent five hundred pound,  Ram. 
And so have I.  Hob. 
No matter.  
The judgement stands, only this verdict too,  
Had you before the law foreseen the loss,  
You had not now come home by weeping cross.  
Strifes may as well have end twixt honest men,  
Lawyers set fools to Law, then laugh at them.  Gresh. 
Fore God 'tis true: and now I think upon it,  
We might at first have ended it by friends,  
And made ourselves merry with the money:  
But being done, 'tis done, than sir Thomas Ramsey,  
Let's leave both losers, 'tis but a thousand pound,  
And if you be as well content as I,  
Here we'll shake hands and let our anger die.  Hob. 
Shake hands, by the Marie god, sir Thomas what else,  Ram. 
You show yourselves our friends, to make us friends,  
Then in good sooth i'll not be obstinate.  Lady. 
Nay, M. Doctor Nowell join their hands,  
I know the reverent regard of you  
Hath tempered both their hearts.  Gresh. 
madam, 'tis true: I think to any but so good a man,  
We should have both been headstrong: but come.  D. Now. 
With all my heart, long may you live together,  
As friend should be to friend, brother to brother.  Gresh. 
Amen, amen, sir Thomas.  Ram. 
Amen, amen, Master Gresham.  Hob. 
Amen, amen, to you both.  
And is not 'tis better than every Term to trot after Lawyers?  Gresh. 
Good sooth 'tis true, if we could think it so,  
But 'tis man's nature, he desires his woe.  A storm. 
Now passion of me sir Thomas, a cruel storm,  
And we stay long we shall be wet to the skin,  
I do not liked, nay and it angers me  
That such a famous City as this is,  
Wherein so many gallant Merchants are,  
Have not a place to meet in, but in this,  
Where every shower of rain must trouble them:  
I cannot tell but if I live: let's step into the pope's head,  
We shall be dropping dry if stay here:  
I'll have a roof built, and such a roof,  
That Merchants and their wives, friend and their friends  
Shall walk underneath it as now in Paul's.  
What day of the Month is this?  Hob. 
Day M. Gresham, let me see:  
I took a fellows word for twenty pound  
The tenth of March, the tenth of March.  Gresh. 
The tenth of March, well if I live,  
I'll raise a work shall make our Merchants say,  
'twas a good shower that fell upon that day. How now Jack?  Enter john Gresham. john. 
Sir, my M. here having preferred me to be his Factor into  
I am come to take my leave of you. (France  Gresh. 
I thank him for his care of thee: M. Hobson,  
My kinsman's come to take his leave of me,  
He tells me you are sending him for France.  Hob. 
Bones a me knave, art there yet?  
I thought thou hadst been half way there by this.  john. 
I did but stay sir, to take my leave of my Uncle.  Gresh. 
O M. Hobson, he comes in a very good time,  
I was bethinking me whom I might send  
To fetch this hundred pound, I am set to pay  
To sir Thomas Ramsey: nay, as we are friends  
we'll have all Covenants kept before we part.  john. 
God grant that I may see it.  Gresh. 
Here john take this sealed Ring,  
Bid Timothy presently send me a hundred pound.  john. 
I sit.  Gresh. 
I am sure he hath it ready told for thee,  
we'll stay here on the Lombard till thou comest.  john. 
Yes Sir.  D. Now. 
Nay stay good john, thou know'st my dwelling john?  john. 
In Paul's Churchyard Sir.  D. Now. 
The hundred pound thou art sent for, bring it thither  john. 
Yes marry will I sir.  Exit. D. Now. 
And my good friends, since that so long a strife  
Hath end by my persuasion, i'll entreat,  
My house may entertain you for this time.  
Where with such necessaries we'll pass the time,  
As God shall best be pleased, and you contented:  
I keep no riot, nor you look for none,  
Only my table is for every one.  Gresh. 
A cup of Sack and welcome M. Deane,  
Nature is best contented with a mean.  Exeunt. Enter Timothy and john Gresham. john. 
As I told you Timothy,  
You must send my Uncle straight a hundred pound:  
'a dines at Doctor Nowel's, and gave me in charge  
To haste with the money after him.  Thimo. 
You come to me john for a hundred pound, I thank my spiritual maker I have the charge of many hundreds of his now john: I hope john you fear God. (too.  john. 
Fear God, 'Sfoot what else, I fear God and the devil  Tym. 
I must tell you john and I know it, you have not fed of the spiritual food, but edified by faith and suffered the tars of the wild affections to be burnt.  john. 
Foot thou wouldst not have me make myself a French Martyr, to be burnt at these years wouldst thou?  Tym. 
I have known them john of our Church, have been burnt for other sins before thy years.  john. 
I by my faith Timothy it may be you have, for as close as you carry your teeth together, with indeed good brother, I do not think but once in a year, a man might find you quartered betwixt the Mouth at Bishopsgate, and the preaching place in Spittle.  Tim. 
Now you talk of the Spittle, I must say in very deed I have been in the Spittle.  john. 
It is the more like Timothy you have been acquainted with the pox then.  Tim. 
But if you should think john, that I would be there to commit, deal, or to speak more profanely, to venture in the way of all flesh, you do wrong me being a brother of the faith.  john. 
Come right yourself and your Master then, and send him this one hundred pound, here's his sealed Ring, I hope a warrant sufficient.  Tim. 
Upon so good security john, i'll fit me to deliver it.  Exit john. 
Spend it, God send me but once to finger it, and if I do not make a Flanders reckoning on't, and that is as I have heard mad wags say, receive it hear and revel it away in another place: let me be spit out of the room of good fellowship, and never have so much favour to touch the skirt of a taffety petticoat.  
Tut I am young, mine uncle's an old chuff,  
And i'll not want by God, since he hath enough.  
I must not let this same wainscot-face, yea & nay, hear me tho.  Enter Timothy. Tim. 
Here john, accept my duty to my Master, I must tell you john, I would not have trusted you john, without so sufficient a discharge.  john. 
I am the less beholding unto you, but now I have't, because you preached to me upon my demand of it, i'll be so bold to lecture to you upon your delivery, timothy you know the Proverb good Timothy, That the still Sow eats all the draff: and no question the most smooth tongued fellow, the more arrant knave: God forbid I should call you so Timothy, yet I will leave this for your further remembrance.  

Under the yea and nay, men often buy  
Much cozenage, find many a lie:  
He that with yea and nay makes all his sayings,  
Yet proves a judas in his dealings,  
Shall have this written o'er his grave,  
Thy life seemed pure, yet died a knave.   Timothy. 
Do you hear john, you know the chapman's word in London, I'll trust you but no further than I see you, you have the hundred pound john, but for that you have wronged us that love to be edified, I will go with you to my Master, and see the money delivered.  john. 
Why, a trusted me to come with't.  Timothy. 
I care not by yea, and nay, i'll go by yea and nay, I will.  john. 
Let me but ask thee this question, Whither dost thou go, in any love to thy master, or to me?  Tim. 
Though my master be my master, yet you have stirred my stomach.  john: 
I thought there was the fruit of your Puritan patience, come let's along, and if I do not show your religion a trick shall be scarce digested with pepins or cheese, let me be called Cut, Come along.  Exeunt. Enter Honesty the Sergeant, and Quick. Honesty. 
Fellow Quick, pray thee have a care if thou canst see john the Upholster, I must needs arrest him.  Quick. 
How much is the debt?  Honesty. 
Some 50. li.  Quic. 
Dost thou think he is able to put in bail to the action?  Honesty. 
I think scarce enough.  Quick. 
Why then we'll arrest him to the popes-head, call for the best cheer in the house, first feed upon him, and then if he will not come off, carry him to the counter, but if he will stretch some 4. or 5. li. being the sums so great he shall pass, we'll make him swear he shall not tell he was arrested, and we'll swear to the creditor we cannot meet with him.  Honest. 
Fore God thou sayst well.  Quick. 
I have served Sent the Perfumer, Tallow the Currier, Quarrel the glazier, and some three or four more of our poor smelts so this morning.  Enter john. john. 
Heart I have courest thorough two or three Lanes, yet the miching slave follows me so close I can not give him the slip for this hundred pound: as God save me now t's in my hand i'do rather be hanged then part from it: Foot, 'twill make a man merry half a year together in France, command wenches or any thing: part from it quoth you, that were a jest indeed: shall a young man as I am, and though I say it indifferent proper, go into a strange country, and not show himself what metal he is made of when 'a comes there: I protest a very good hundred pound, a hundred pound will go far in France, and when a man hath it not of his own, who should he make bold withal for it, if he may not with his Uncle; but see if that thin faced rogue be not come again, I must have a trick for him.  Enter Tim. Tim. 
For all your fore-long too and fro, by yea and nay, i'll follow you.  john. 
Will you, there should be Sergeants hereabouts, will you: Lord if it be thy will send me to hit of one, and if I do not show you a trick, thou shouldst be a Sergeant by thy peering so.  Honest. 
Why M. john so I am. (thy name?  john. 
Thou art happily met: I am looking for one, what's  Ho. 
My name M. john, I have been merry at your uncles many a time, my name's Honesty.  john. 
i'faith.  Quick. 
Nay, i'll assure you his name is Honesty, and I am Quick  Ioh. 
Honesty! who the pox gave thee that name? (his Yeoman.  
But thou must do an office for my Uncle:  
Hear Quick, run thou before and enter the action,  
there's money, an action of an hundred pound  
Against Timothy Thin-beard, M. Gresham's Factor,  
I hope I shall teach you to dog me.  Quick. 
An action against Thin-beard, I go.  Exit. john. 
Here Honesty, there's money for thy arrest,  
Be sure to take good Bail or clap him fast:  
I hope I shall show you a trick.  Honest. 
Mum for that.  john. 
See where he is, God prosper it.  
Fasten upon him like a hungry Dog upon a piece of meat:  
And if this be not a trick to chaste a fool,  
A more knave learn me, and i'll go to school.  Honest. 
I arrest you Sir.  Tim: 
Arrest me, thou servant to Sathan: at whose suit?  Honest. 
At your Masters, M. Gresham's.  Tim. 
O God for thy mercy, M. john, M. john.  john. 
Nay, nay, this 100. li, hath other work in hand for me,  
You are in the devils hand, and so agree.  Exit. Tim. 
My good friend, now what must become of me?  Honest. 
Unless, we shall to the Tavern, and drink till you can send for Bail, you must to the Counter.  Tim. 
Is there no difference made betwixt the faithful and the unfaithful.  Honest. 
Faith very little in paying of debts: but if you be so holy, I marvel how you run so far behind hand With your M.  Tim. 
I must confess I owe my M. 500. li. How I came so, it is not fit to lay the sins of our flesh open to every eye, & you know the saying, 'tis bad to do evil, but worse to boast of it: yet he above knows that sometimes as soon as I have come from Bowe-church, I have gone to a bawdy-house. (your knavery.  Honest. 
Nay it appears so, that now your M. hath smelled out  Tim. 
Not to commit in very deed good friend, but only to see fashions or to recreate & stir up our drowsy appetites.  Enter Quic. Honest. 
Well here comes my fellow Quick, and unless you will content us for staying, you must along to the Counter.  Tim. 
I hope you think The Labourer is worthy of his hire: we will stay here at the Tavern, and Quick I will content thee, to carry a letter to my master, wherein I will make him a restitution of his 500. li. by repentance, and show him the way that my frail nature hath run into.  Honest. 
Well, we'll be paid by the hour.  Tim. 
It will not be amiss if you buy an hourglass.  Exeunt. Enter D. Nowel, Gresham. sir Tho. Ramsie, Hobson, Lady Ramsie, Gresh. 
Come M. D. Nowell, now we have done  
Our worst to your good cheer, we'd fain be gone:  
Only we stay my kinsman's long return,  
To pay this hundred pound to sir Thomas Ramsey.  D. Now. 
Then assure you, he will be hear presently:  
In the mean time, I have drawn you to this walk,  
A Gallery, wherein I keep the Pictures  
Of many charitable Citizens:  
That having fully satisfied your bodies,  
You may by them learn to refresh your souls.  Gresh. 
Are all these Pictures of good Citizens?  D. Now. 
They are, and i'll describe to you some of their births,  
How they bestowed their lives, and did so live  
The fruits of this life might a better give.  Gresh. 
You shall gain more in showing this to us,  
Than you have shown.  Lady. 
Good M. Deane, I pray you show it us.  
This was the Picture of sir john Philpot sometimes Mayor,  
This man at one time, at his own charge,  
Levied ten thousand soldiers, guarded the Realm  
From the incursions of our enemies:  
And in the year a thousand three hundred and eighty,  
When Thomas of Woodstock, Thomas percy with other noble  
Were sent to aid the Duke of brittany, (men,  
This said john Filpot furnished out four ships  
At his own charges and did release the armour  
That the poor soldiers had for victuals pawned.  
This man did live when Walworth was Lord Maior  
That provident, valiant, and learned Citizen,  
That both attached, and killed the traitor Tyler,  
For which good service Walworth the Lord Maior,  
This Filpot, and four other Aldermen,  
Were knighted in the field.  
Thus did he live, and yet before he died  
Assured relief for thirteen poor for ever.  Gres: 
By the marry God a worthy Citizen:  
On good my dear.  Now: 
This sir Richard Whitington three times Maior,  
Son to a Knight, and Prentice to a Mercer,  
Began the Library of Gray-Friars in London;  
And his Executors after him did build  
Whittington College, thirteen alms-houses for poor men,  
Repaired S. Bartholomew's in Smithfield,  
Glazed the Guildhall, and built Newgate.  Hob. 
Bones of me than I have heard lies,  
For I have heard he was a scullion,  
And raised himself by venture of a Cat.  Now: 
They did the more wrong to the gentleman.  
This sir john Allen Mercer and Maior of London,  
A man so grave of life that he was made  
A privy Counsellor to King henry the eight,  
He gave this City a rich Collar of gold,  
That by the Maior succeeding should be worn;  
Of which sir William Laxton was the first,  
And is continued even unto this year,  
A number more there are, of whose good deeds  
This City flourished.  Gresh: 
And we may be ashamed,  
For in their deeds we see our own disgrace,  
We that are Citizens are rich as they were.  
Behold their charity in every street,  
Churches for prayer, alms-houses for the poor,  
Conduits which bring us water: all which good  
We do see and are relieved withal,  
And yet we live like beasts, spend time and die,  
Leaving no good to be remembered by.  Lady. 
Among the Stories of these blessed men,  
So many that enrich your gallery,  
There are two women's Pictures: what were they?  D. Now. 
They are two that have deserved a memory,  
Worthy the note of our Posterity:  
This Agnes Foster, wife to sir A. Foster,  
That freed a Beggar at the grate of Ludgate,  
Was after Maior of this most famous City,  
And builded the Southside of Ludgate up,  
Upon which wall these Verses I have read.  

Devout souls that pass this way,  
For M. Foster late Maior honestly pray,  
And Agnes his Wife to God consecrate,  
That of pity this house made for Londoners in Ludgate:  
So that for lodging and water here nothing they pay,  
As their Keepers shall answer at dreadful dooms day.   Lady. 
O what a charitable deed was this!  
This Ave Gibson who in her husband's life,  
Being a Grocer, and a sheriff of London,  
Founded a free School at Ratcliffe,  
There to instruct threescore poor children,  
Built fourteen alms-houses for fourteen poor  
Leaving for Tutors 50. li. a year,  
And Quarterly for every one a Noble.  Lady. 
Why should not I live so, that being dead  
My name might have a register with theirs.  Gresh. 
Why should not all of us being wealthy men,  
And by God's blessing only raised; but  
Cast in our minds how we might them exceed  
In godly works, helping of them that need.  Hob. 
Bones a me 'tis true: why should we live,  
To have the poor to curse us being dead?  
Heaven grant that I may live, that when I die,  
Although my children laugh, the poor may cry.  Now. 
If you will follow the religious path,  
That these have beat before you, you shall win heaven,  
Even in the midday walks you shall not walk the street.  
But widows orisons, Laysars prayers, Orphans thanks,  
Will fly into your ears, and with a joyful blush,  
Make you thank God that you have done for them:  
When otherwise they'll fill you ears with curses,  
Crying we feed on woe, you are our Nurses.  
O be't not better that young couples say,  
You raised us up, than you were our decay:  
And mother's tongues teach their first borne to sing,  
Of your good deeds, then by the bad to wring.  Hob. 
No more M. D. Nowell, no more,  
I think these words should make a man of flint.  
To mend his life: how say you M Gresham?  Gresh. 
Fore-god they have starred tears into my eyes,  
And M. D. Nowel you shall see  
The words that you have spoke, have wrought effect in me.  Ladw. 
And from these women I will take a way,  
To guide my life for a more blessed stay.  Now. 
Begin then whilst you live, least being dead,  
The good you give in charge be never done,  
Make your own hands your executors, your eyes overseers,  
And have this saying ever in your mind:  
Women be forgetful, children be unkind,  
Executors be covetous, and take what they find.  Hob. 
In my time I have seen many of them.  Gresh. 
I'll learn then to prevent them whilst I live,  
The good I mean to do; these hands shall give.  Enter Quick. Quick. 
The matter you wot of sit is done.  Gresh. 
Done knave, what's done?  Quick. 
Is in hucksters handling sir, and hear he commend him unto you.  Gresh. 
Mary God knave dost tell me Riddles, what's all this?  Quic. 
A thing will speak his own mind to you,  
If you please but to open the lip.  Enter Clo. Clo. 
Be your leave Gentlemen, I am come to smell out my master here: Your kinsman john sir, your kinsman john.  Gresh. 
O he has brought the hundred pound, where is he?  Clo. 
It appears by this, the matter is of less weight.  Gresh. 
What more paper:!  
Fellow, what hast thou brought me here, a recantation?  Clo. 
It may be so for he appears in a white sheet.  Quick. 
Indeed he seems sorry for his bad life..  Gresh. 
Bad life, bad life knave, what means all this?  
M. D. Nowell, pray read it for me,  
And I'll read that my kinsman john hath sent:  
Where is he knave?  Clo. 
Your worship is no wiser than you should be, to keep any of that coat.  Gresh. 
Knave thou mean'st.  Clo. 
Knave I mean sir, but your kinsman john,  
That by this time's well forward on his way.  Gresh. 
Heyday, what have we here, knavery as quick as eels?  
we'll more of this.  Clo. 
You were best let me help you hold it sir.  Gresh. 
Why knave, dost think I cannot hold a paper.  Clo. 
Help will do no hurt for if the knavery be as quick as an eel, it may chance to deceive you.  Greshams reads. 

I am a Merchant made by chance,  
And lacking coin to venture:  
Your hundred pound's gone toward France,  
Your Factor in the Counter.   Quick. 
No sir, he is yet but in the Tavern at counter gate, but he shall soon be in if you please.  Gresh. 
Away knave, let me read on.  

My father gave me a portion,  
You keep away my due:  
I have paid myself a part to spend,  
Here's a discharge for you.   
Precious coal, here's a knave round with me.  D. Now. 
Your Factor Timothy Thin beard writes to you,  
Who as it seems is arrested at your suit.  Gresh. 
How, at my suit!  D. Now. 
And hear confesseth by using bad company,  
He is run behind hand five hundred pound.  
And doth entreat you would be good to him.  Gresh. 
How, run behind hand five hundred pound,  
And by bad company: M. Deane of Paul's,  
He is a fellow seems so pure of life,  
I durst have trusted him with all I had had.  D. Now. 
Here is so much under his own hand.  Gresh. 
Ha, let me see, who set you to arrest him?  Quick. 
Why your kinsman john sir, your kinsman john.  Gresh. 
He, ha, in faith I smell the knavery then:  
This knave belike mistrusting of my kinsman,  
Would come along to see the money given me:  
Mad Jack having no trick to put him off,  
Arrests him with a Sergeant at my suit,  
There went my hundred pound away: this Thin-beard then  
Knowing himself to have played the knave with me,  
And thinking I had arrested him indeed,  
Confesseth all his tricks with yea, and nay:  
So her's five hundred pound come, one run away.  Hob. 
Bones a me, M. Gresham, is my man john  
Gone away with your hundred pound?  Clo. 
Faith it appears so by the acquittance that I brought.  Gresh. 
No matter M. Hobson, the charge you trust him with,  
I'll see he shall discharge, I know he is wild,  
Yet I must tell you i'll not see him sunk:  
And afore-god it hath done my heart more good,  
The knave had wit to do so mad a trick,  
Then if he had profited me twice so much.  Ram. 
He ever had the name of mad Jack Gresham.  Gresh. 
Is the more like his Uncle, Sir Thomas Ramsey  
When I was young I do remember well,  
I was as very a knave as he is now.  
Sirrah, bring Thin-beard hither to me, and sir Thomas Ramsey,  
Your hundred pound i'll see you paid myself:  
Ha ha, mad jack, Gramercy for this slight,  
This hundred pounds makes me thy Uncle right.  Exeunt. Enter john Tawnicote. Taw. 
I sure 'tis in this Lane, I turned on the right hand coming from the Stocks, nay, though there was master carls, man carels, and all careless, i'll still be honest john, and scorn to take any man's ware but i'll pay them for it: I warrant they think me an arrant knave, for going away and not paying, and in my conscience the master cudgeled the men, and the men the master, and all about me, whenas God save me I did it innocently. But sure this is the Lane, there's the Windmill, there's the dog's head in the pot, and her's the friar whipping the nun's arse: t's here about sure.  Enter in the shop 2. of Hobson's folks, and opening the shop. 1. 
Come fellow Crack, have you sorted up those wares?  
Marked them with 54. they must be packed up.  2. 
I have done't an hour ago: have you sealed up  
My master's Letter to his Factor john Gresham?  
It is at Deep in France to send him Matches,  
For he must use them at Bristol fair.  1. 
ay, and the Post received it two hours since.  Taw. 
Sure it is here about, the kennel was on my right hand, and I think in my conscience I shall never have the grace of God and good luck, if I do not pay it: God's foot, look here, look here, I know this is the shop by that same stretch-halter, O my masters, by your leave good fellows.  1. 
You are welcome sir, you are welcome.  Taw. 
Indeed that's the common saying about London, if men bring money with them.  1. 
O sir, money customers to us are best welcome.  Taw. 
You say well, so they should be. come turn o'er your books, I am come to pay this same ten pound.  1. 
And we are ready to receive money: what might we call your name?  Taw. 
Why my name is john Goodfellow, I hope I am not ashamed of my name.  1. 
Your Kin are the more beholding to you, fellow Crack turn o'er the calendar, and look for john Goodfellow.  2. 
What comes it to?  Tawnie. 
ten pound.  1. 
You will have no more wares with you, will you sir.  Taw. 
Nay prithee not too fast, let's pay for the old before we talk of any new.  2. 
john Goodfellow, fellow Nimble-chaps, here's no such name in all our book.  1. 
I think thou art mop-eyed this morning, give me the book, Letter I, Letter I, Letter I: when had you your ware?  Taw. 
I had it some ten days ago.  1. 
Your name's john Goodfellow you say, Letter I, Letter I, Letter I: You do not come to mock us, do you. Letter I, Letter I, Letter I. By this hand if I thought you did, I would knock you about the ears afore we parted fellow Crack, get me a Cudgel ready; Letter I, Letter I, Letter I: Foot here's no such name in all our Book. Do you hear fellow are you drunk this morning, to make us look for moonshine in the water?  Taw: 
Fut, art not thou drunk this morning, canst not receive the money that's due to thee? I tell thee I had ten pounds worth of ware here.  1. 
And I tell thee john Goodfellow, here's no such name in our book, nor no such ware delivered.  Taw: 
God's precious, there's a jest indeed, so a man may be sworn out of himself, had not I ten pounds worth of ware here?  2. 
No Goodman goose, that you had not.  Taw: 
Hyday, here's excellent fellows, are able to make their masters horns grow through his head in a month, they cannot only carelessly deliver away his ware, but also they will not take money for it when it comes.  1. 
Do you hear Hoyden, and my master were not in the next room, I'd knock you about ears for playing the knave with us, ere you parted.  Taw: 
By the mass I think your master had more need knock you about the ears, for playing the jacks with him, there's your ten pounds, tell it out with a wanion, and take it for your pains.  1. 
Fut, here's a mad slave indeed will give us ten pound in spite of our teeths.  2. 
Fellow Nimble Chaps, alas let the poor fellow alone, it appears he is besides himself.  Taw: 
By the mass, I think you will sooner make your master stark mad, if you play thus with everybody.  Enter old Hobson. Hobs: 
Hyday, bones a me, here's lazy knaves.  
Past eight o'clock, and neither ware sorted,  
Not shop swept.  Taw: 
Good morrow to you sir, have you any more stomach to receive money, than your men have this morning?  Hob: 
Money is welcome chaffer, welcome good friend, Welcome good friend.  Taw: 
Here's monsieur malapert your man, scorns to receive it.  Hob: 
How knaves, think scorn to receive my money?  
Bones a me grown proud, proud knaves, proud.  1. 
I hope we know sir you do not use to bring up your servants to receive money unless it be due unto you.  Hob. 
No bones a me knaves, not for a million:  
Friend, come to pay me money, for what, for what,  
For what come you to pay me money?  Taw. 
Why Sir, for ware I had some month ago,  
Being Pins, Points, and Laces,  
Poting sticks for young wives, for young wenches glasses,  
Ware of all sorts which I bore at my back  
To sell where I come, with what do you lack, what do you lack?  
What do you lack?  Hob. 
Bones a me a merry knave: what's thy name?  Taw. 
My name sir is john Goodfellow,  
An honest poor peddler of Kent.  Hob. 
And had ten pound in ware of me, a month ago:  
Bones give me the books, john Goodfellow of Kent.  Taw. 
O sir, Nomine & naturae, by name and nature,  
I am as well known for a goodfellow in Kent,  
As your City Summer's known for a knave,  
Come sir will you be telling.  Hob. 
Tell me of no tellings, bones of me here's no such matters  
Away knave away, thou owest me none, out of my doors.  Taw. 
How, owe you none say you! this is but a trick to try my honesty now.  Hob. 
There's a groat, go drink a pint of Sack,  
Comfort thyself thou art not well in thy wits;  
God forbid, pay me ten pound not due to me.  Taw. 
God's dickens here's a jest indeed, master mad, men mad, and all mad, here's a mad household: do you hear M. Hobson, I do not greatly care to take your groat, and I care as little to spend it, yet you shall know I am john, honest john, and I will not be out faced of my honesty, here I had ten pounds worth of ware, and I will pay for it.  Hob. 
Nimble-chaps, call for help Nimble-chaps,  
Bones of me the man begins to rave.  2. 
Master I have found out one john Tawnycoat,  
Had ten pounds worth of ware a month ago.  Taw. 
Why that's I, that's I: I was john Tawnycoat then,  
Though I am john Gray-cote now.  Hob. 
john Tawnycoat! welcome john Tawnycoat.  Taw. 
Foot do you think i'll be out faced of my honesty?  Hob. 
A stool for john Tawnycoat, sit good john Tawnycoat.  
Honest john Tawnycoat, welcome john Tawnycoat.  Taw. 
Nay, i'll assure you we are honest all the generation of us,  
There 'tis to a doit I warrant it, you need not tell it after me,  
Foot do you think i'll be out faced of mine honesty?  Hob. 
Thou art honest john, honest john Tawnycoat:  
Having so honestly paid for this,  
Sort up his pack straight worth twenty pound,  
I'll trust thee honest john, Hobson will trust thee:  
And any time, the ware that thou dost lack,  
Money or money not, i'll stuff thy pack.  Taw. 
I thank you Master Hobson, and this is the fruit of honesty.  Enter a Pursuivant. Pur. 
Be your leave M. Hobson, I bring this favour to you,  
My royal Mistress queen Elizabeth,  
Hath sent to borrow a hundred pound of you.  Hob. 
How, bones a me, Queen know Hobson, Queen know  
And send but for one hundred pound: Friend come in; (Hobson?  
Come in friend, shall have two, Queen shall have two:  
If Queen know Hobson, once her Hobson's purse,  
Must be free for her she is England's Nurse:  
Come in good friend, ha, Queen know Hobson,  
Nay come in john we'll dine together too.  Taw. 
Make up my pack and i'll along from you  
Singing merrily on the way,  
Points, Points, Gloves, and Purses,  
poking-sticks, and black jet-rings,  
cambrics, lawns, and pretty things:  
Come maids and buy my back doth croak,  
I have all that you want: what do you lack?  
What do you lack?  Exeunt. Enter Gresham and Sword-bearer. Gresh. 
Our cities Sword-bearer and my very good friend,  
What have our honourable Court of Aldermen  
Determined yet shall Gresham have a place,  
To erect this worthy building to his name,  
May make the City speak of him for ever.  Sword. 
They are in earnest counsel sir about it.  Gresh. 
Be you my Agent to and fro to them,  
I know your place and will be thankful to you:  
Tell them I wait here in the majors Court,  
Beneath in the sheriffs Court my workmen wait  
In number full a hundred, my Frame is ready,  
All only stay their pleasure, than out of hand  
Up goes my work, a credit to the Land.  Sword. 
I shall be dutiful in your request.  Exit. Gresh. 
Do good M. Sword-bearer, now when this work is  
It shall be in the pleasure of my life, (raised,  
To come and meet our Merchants at their hour,  
And see them in the greatest storm that is  
Walk dry, and in a work I raised for them:  
Or fetch a turn within my upper walk,  
Within which square I have ordered Shops shall be  
Of neat but necessariest Trades in London.  
And in the richest sort being garnished out,  
'twill do me good to see shops with fair wives  
Sit to attend the profit of their husbands:  
Young maids brought up young men as prentices.  
Some shall prove masters and speak in Gresham's praise,  
In Gresham's work we did our fortunes raise.  
For I dare say both Country and the Court,  
For wares shall be beholding to this work.  Enter Sword-bearer, Lord Mayor, and Sheriffs. Sword. 
M. Gresaam,  
Thus sends the Lord Mayor and Court of Aldermen.  Ram. 
Or rather come to bring the news ourself:  
We have determined of a place for you  
In Cornhill, the delightful of this City,  
Where you shall raise your Frame: the City at their Charge  
Hath bought the houses and the ground, (pound;  
And paid for both three thousand five hundred three & twenty  
Order is given the houses shall be sold,  
To any man will buy them and remove them,  Sheriff. 
Which is already done, being fourscore households,  
Were sold for 478. pound.  
The plot is also plained at the cities charges,  
And we in name of the whole Citizens,  
Do come to give you full possession  
Of this our purchase, whereon to build a Burse,  
A place for-Marchants to assemble in,  
At your own charges.  Gresh. 
M sheriff I'll do't, and what I spend therein,  
I scorn to lose day, neglect is a sin:  
Where be my work men?  Enter workmen. Work. 
Here, here with trowel and tools ready at hand.  Gresh. 
Come fellows, come:  Enter D. Nowell and Hobson. 
We have a Frame made, and we have room  
To raise it: but M. D. Nowell, and M. Hobson,  
We have your presence in a happy time,  
This seventh of june we the first stone will lay  
Of our new Burse, give us some Bricks:  
Here's a brick, here's a fair Sovereign,  
Thus I begin, be it hereafter told  
I laid the first stone with a piece of gold.  
He that loves Gresham follow him in this,  
The gold we lay, due to the workmen is.  work.. 
O God bless M. Gresham, God bless M. Gresham.  Ram. 
The Mayor of London M. Gresham follows you:  
Unto your first this second I do fit,  
And lay this piece of gold a top of it.  Shri. 
So do the Sheriffs of London after you.  Hob. 
And bones of me, old Hobson will be one,  
Here's fellows there's my gold give me a stone.  Work. 
God forbid a man of your credit should want stones  D. Now. 
Is this the Plot sir of your work in hand?  Gresh. 
The whole Plot both of form and fashion.  D. Now. 
In sooth it will be a good edifice,  
Much Art appears in it: in all my time  
I have not seen a work of this neat form:  
What is this vaultage for, is fashioned here?  Gresh. 
Stowage for merchants ware and strangers goods,  
As either by exchange or otherways are vendable.  D. Now. 
Here is a middle round and a far space,  
The round is greater, and the space  
Seems open: your conceit for that?  Gresh. 
The grates give light unto the cellarage,  
Upon the which i'll have my friends to walk,  
When heaven gives comfortable rain unto the earth:  
For that I will have covered,  D. Now. 
So it appears.  Gresh. 
This space that hides not heaven from us,  
Shall be so still, my reason is,  
there's Summer's heat, as well as winter's cold,  
And I allow and here's my reason for't,  
'tis better to be bleaked by winter's breath,  
Than to be stifled up with Summer's heat:  
In cold weather walk dry and thick together,  
And every honest man warm one another:  
In Summer then when too much heat offends,  
Take air a God's name Merchants or my friends.  D. Now. 
And what of this part that is over head?  Gresh. 
M. Deane in this:  
There is more ware there then in all the rest,  
Here like a parish for good Citizens  
And their fair wives to dwell in, i'll have shops  
Where every day they shall become themselves  
In neat attire, that when our Courtiers  
Shall come in trains to pace old Gresham's Burse,  
They shall have such a girdle of chaste eyes,  
And such a globe of beauty round about:  
Ladies shall blush to turn their visards off,  
And Courtiers swear they lied when they did scoff.  D. Now. 
Kind M. Gresham this same work of yours,  
Will be a Tomb for you after your death,  
A benefit to Tradesmen and a place  
Where merchants meet their traffic to maintain,  
Where neithèr could shall hurt them, heat, nor rain.  Gresh. 
O M Nowell I did not forget  
The troublesome storm we had in Lumbar-fleet,  
That time Sir Thomas and I were adversaries,  
And you and M. Hobson made us friends.  
I then did say, and now i'll keep my word,  
I saw a want and I would help afford:  
Nor is my promise given you when you show'd  
That rank of charitable men to us,  
That I would follow their good actions  
Forgot with me, but that before I die,  
The world shall see I'll leave like memory.  A blazing Star. Hob. 
Fore-God my Lord, have you beheld the like!  
Look how it streaks, what do you think of it?  Shir. 
'tis a strange Comet M. Hobson,  
My time to my remembrance hath not seen  
A sight so wonderful. M. D. Nowell,  
To judge of these things your experience  
Exceedeth ours, what do you hold of it?  
For I have heard that Meteors in the air,  
Of lesser form, less wonderful than these,  
Rather foretell of danger's imminent,  
Then flatter us wish future happiness.  D. Now. 
Art may discourse of these things none can judge  
Directly of the will of heaven in this,  
And by discourse thus far I hold of it.  
That this strange star appearing in the North,  
And in the constellation of Cassiopey,  
Which with three fixed stars commixed to it,  
Doth make a Figure Geometrical,  
Lozengewise called of the learned Rombus,  
Conducted with the hourly Moon of heaven,  
And never altered from the fixed sphere,  
Foretells such alteration that my friends,  
Heaven grant with this first sight our sorrow ends.  Hob: 
God, will be done M. Deane, hap what hap will,  
Death doth not fear the good man but the ill.  Gresh. 
Well said M Hobson.  
Let's have a day, that if death come tomorrow  
he's rather messenger of joy then sorrow.  
Now sir what news from barbary?  Enter a Factor. Fact. 
Unwelcome news sir, the King of barbary is slain.  Gresh. 
Ha, slain by treason or by war.  Fact. 
By war, in that renowned Battle,  
Swift Fame desires to carry through the world:  
The Battle of Alcasar, wherein two Kings  
Besides this King of barbary was slain,  
Kings of Morocco and of Portugal,  
With Stewkeley that renowned Englishman  
That had a spirit equal with a King,  
Mad fellow with these Kings in warlike strife,  
Honoured his Country and concluded life.  Gresh. 
Could news by’r lady, the venture Gentlemen  
Of threescore thousand pound with that dead King,  
Lies in a hazard to be won or lost:  
In what estate consists the Kingdom now?  Fact. 
In peace, and the succeeding happy,  
Was crowned then King when I took ship from thence.  Gresh. 
To that King then be Messenger from us,  
And by the sound of Trumpet summon him?  
Say that thy Master and a London Merchant,  
Craves due performance of such covenants  
Confirmed by the late King unto ourself,  
That for the sum of threescore thousand pound,  
The traffic of his Sugars should be mine.  
If he refuse the former bargain made,  
Then freely claim our money that we lent:  
Say that our coin did stead the former King,  
If he be Kind we have as much for him.  Hob. 
By the mary-god it was a dangerous day,  
Three Kings beside young Stewkeley slain:  
I'll tell you my Lord Maior what I have seen  
When sword and bucklers were in question,  
I have seen that Stewkeley beat a street before him,  
He was so familiar grown in every mouth,  
That if it happened any fighting were,  
The question straight was, was not Stewkely there.  
Bones a me he would hew it. Now, what news with you?  Enter a Boy. Boy. 
Here is a Letter sent you from john Gresham.  Hob. 
O an answer of a Letter that I sent,  
To send me Matches against Bristol fair,  
If then any were come.  Boy: 
I cannot tell Sir well what to call it, but instead of matches of ware, when you read your Letter, I believe you will find your Factor hath matched you.  Hob. 
What's here, what's here.  Read the Letter. 
As near as I could guess at your meaning, I have laboured to furnish you, and have sent you 2. thousand pounds worth of Match.  
How, bones knave, 2. thousand pounds worth of Match!  Boy. 
Faith M. never chafe at it, for if you cannot put it away for Match, it may be the hangman will by some of it for halters.  Hob. 
Bones a me, I sent for matches of ware, fellows of ware.  Boy. 
And Match being a kind of ware, I think your Factor hath matched you.  Hob. 
The blazing Star did not appear for nothing:  
I sent to be sorted with matches of ware,  
And he hath sent me nought, but a commodity of Match,  
And in a time when there's no vent for it.  
What do you think on't Gentlemen,  
I little thought jack would have served me so.  Gresh. 
Nay M. Hebson grieve not at jack's cross,  
My doubt is more and that I laugh at less.  Exeunt. Enter 2. Lords. 1. Lord. 
You have travelled sir, how do you like this building?  
Trust me it is the goodliest thing that I have seen,  
England affords none such.  2. Lord. 
Nor Christendom:  
I might say all the world has not his fellow.  
I have been in Turkey's great Constantinople,  
The Merchants there meet in a goodly temple,  
But have no common Burse in Rom, but Rome's  
Built after the manner of Frankford, and Eniden:  
There where the greatest Marts and meeting places  
Of merchants are have streets and penthouses,  
And as I might compare them to themselves,  
Like Lumberstreet before this Buisse was built.  Enter sir Thomas Ramsie. 1. Lord. 
I have seen the like in Bristol.  Ram. 
Good morrow to your honours.  2. Lord. 
Thanks to my good Lord Major.  
We are gazing here of M. Gresham's work.  Ram. 
I think you have not seen a goodlier Frame.  2. Lord. 
Not in my life, yet I have been in Venice,  
In the Rialto there called S. Marks,  
'tis but a babble if compared to this.  
The nearest that which most resembles this,  
Is the great Burse in Antwerp, yet not comparable  
Either in height or wideness: the fair cellarage,  
Or goodly shops above: O my Lord Major,  
This Gresham hath much graced your City London,  
His fame will long outlive him.  1. Lord. 
It is reported you sir Thomas Ramsey are as rich as he.  
This should incite you to such noble works,  
To eternize you.  Ram. 
Your Lordship pleases to be pleasant with me,  
I am the meanest of a many men  
In this fair City, M Gresham's fame  
Draws me as a spectator amongst others,  
To see his cost, but not compare with it,  1. Lord. 
And it is cost indeed.  2. Lord. 
But when to fit these empty rooms about here,  
The pictures graven of all the English Kings  
Shall be set over and in order placest,  
How glorious will it then be?  1. Lord. 
Admirable!  Ram. 
These very Pictures will surmount my wealth.  1. Lord. 
But how will M. Gresham name this place?  2. Lord. 
I heard my L. of Leicester to the Queen  
Highly commend this work, and she then promised  
To come in person and hear christian it,  
It cannot have a better Godmother:  
This Gresham is a royal Citizen.  Ram. 
He feasts this day the Russian Ambassador,  
I am a bidden Guest:  
Where if it please you.  1. Lord. 
Good sir Thomas,  
We know what you would say, We are his Guests  
Invited two: yet in our way we took  
This wonder worth our pains, it is our way  
To Bishopsgate to M. Gresham's house,  
Thither so please you we'll associate you.  Enter Gresham leading in the Ambassador, Music, and a Banquet served in: the Ambassador set: Enter Sir Tho. Ramsie, the 2. Lords, my Lady Ramsie the Weights in Sergeants gowns with one Interpreter. Gresh. 
Lords all at once welcome, welcome at once,  
You come to my new buildings up sitting,  
It hath been long in labour now deliver.  
anon we'll have a health to it.  
This Russian Prince the emperor's Ambassador  
Doth not our Language understand: Interpreter,  
Say that the we bid him welcome.  Inter. 
The Prince speaks Latin,  
And in that language we'll interpret for him:  
Salutem tibi optat & adicentum tuum gravissume iste Londinensis.  Amb. 
Istum libens audio, ages illi meo nomine Ex animo gratias, fund quod bibamus.  Inter. 
He gladly thanks you for his royal welcome  
And drinks to you.  Gresh. 
We understand that sign.  
Come let our full crowned cups o'erflow with wine,  
Welcome again fair Lords.  2. Lord. 
Thanks M. Gresham.  
We have been viewing of your works.  Gresh. 
My Burse how do you like it Lord,  
It is a pretty babble.  2. Lo. 
'tis a fair work.  
Her Majesty intends to name the place.  Gresh. 
She doth her servant Gresham too much grace,  
It will be pretty when my Pictures come  
To fill those empty rooms, if that holds,  
That ships rich is worth her weight in gold.  1. Lo. 
It will be rare and famous.  Gresh. 
What was it that the Russian whispered?  Inter. 
He ask me what interpreter the Queen  
Would in his embassy employ.  Giesh. 
None, tell him none.  
For though a woman, she is a rare Linguist,  
Where other Princes use Interpreters,  
She propria voce, I have some Latin too:  
She of herself hears all their Embassies,  
And herself answers them without Interpreter,  
Both Spanish, Latin, French, and Greek,  
Dutch, and Italian, so let him know:  
My Lord of Leicester sent me word last night,  
And I am prouder on't then on my building,  
The Queen to grace me and my works the more,  
The several Ambassadors then will hear,  
And them in person answer.  2. Lord. 
'tis most true.  Enter a Gentleman whispering to sir Thomas Ramsie. Gresham. 
The Russian with the Frence.  
What would that Gentleman sir Thomas?  Ram. 
He is a Merchant and a Jeweller:  
'mongst other stones he saith he hath a Pearl  
Orient and round, weighing so many carets  
That it can scarce be valued: the French king,  
And many other Dukes have for the riches  
And prize refused to buy it: now he comes,  
To offer it to this Ambassador.  Gresh. 
Show him the Pearl Interpreter:  
The Lord Ambassador.  Inter. 
Mercator quidem & aurifex spectandum, tibi profere  
Gemmam domine serenissime.  Amb. 
Et pulchra & principe digna, interroga quanti judicat?  Inter. 
He commends it to be both rich and fair,  
And desires to know how you value it.  Mar. 
My prize sir, is fifteen hundred pound.  Amb. 
Quantivalet?  Inter. 
mill quin gentis minis,  Amb. 
Non, non nimis peceara est ista Gemma.  Inter. 
He saith it is too dear, he will not buy it.  Gresh. 
I will peruse your pearl, is that your prize?  Mar. 
I cannot bate one crown and gain by it.  Enter a Mariner. Gresh. 
we'll not be accessary to your Loss,  
And yet consider all things some may think us  
To be but bare of treasure at this time,  
Having disbursed so much about our works:  
Yet if our ships and Trade in barbary  
Hold currant we are well: what news from Sea,  
How stands my ships?  Mar. 
Your ships in which all the Kings pictures were,  
From Brute unto our Queen Elizabeth:  
Drawn in white marble, by a storm at sea  
Is wracked and lost.  Gresh. 
The Loss, I weigh not this:  
Only it grieves me that my famous building,  
Shall want so rich and fair an ornament.  L. Ram. 
It touches all the City; for those pictures  
Had doubly graced this royal edifice.  Ram. 
methinks the ship's loss most should trouble you.  Gresh. 
My ships but wealth, why we have wealth;  
The pictures were the grace of my new Burse,  
So I might them in their true form behold,  
I cared not to have lost their weights in gold.  1. Lord. 
A noble Citizen.  Enter a Factor. Gresh. 
Our Factor, what good news from barbary?  
What says the King, speak, didst thou summon him?  
Or hast thou brought my threescore thousand pound?  
Or shall I have the Sugars at that rate?  
If so, new marble Pictures we'll have wrought,  
And in a new ship from beyond-sea brought.  Fact. 
The King that in the regal chair succeeds  
The King late dead I summoned, and demanded  
Either your money tendered, or the Sugars  
After the rate proposed, he denied both  
Alleging though he was successive heir,  
He was not therefore either tide to pay  
The late king's debts, nor yet to stand unto  
Unnecessary bargains: notwithstanding  
To gratify your love, the King hath sent you  
As presents, not as satisfaction:  
A costly dagger, and a pair of slippers,  
And there's all for you threescore thousand pound.  Gresh. 
by’r lady a dear bargain.  1. Lord. 
I fear me this will plague him, a strange cross,  
How will he take this news, loss upon loss.  2. Lord. 
Nay, will it not undo him, doth he not wish his buildings in his purse.  Gresh. 
A dagger that's well,  
A pair of slippers come unto my shoes,  
What 30. thousand pound in sterling money,  
And paid me all in slips, than hautboys play,  
On slippers i'll dance all my care away:  
Fit, fit, he had the just length of my foot.  
You may report Lords when you come to Court,  
You Gresham saw a pair of slippers wear  
Cost thirty thousand pound.  1, Lo. 
Somewhat too dear.  
Nor yet for all this treasure we have lost,  
Repents it us one penny of our cost.  2. Lo. 
As royal in his virtues as his buildings.  Ram. 
These losses would have killed me.  Gresh. 
jeweller,  
Let's see thy pearl: go pound it in a Mortar,  
Beat it to powder then return it me,  
What Dukes, and Lords, and these Ambassadors  
Have even before our face refused to purchase  
As of too high a price to venture on,  
Gresham a London Merchant here will buy.  
What is it broken small? fill us some wine,  
Fuller, yet fuller till the brim o'erflows,  
Here 16000. pound at one clap goes,  
In stead of Sugar, Gresham drinks this pearl  
Unto his Queen and Mistress: pledge it Lords,  
whoever saw a Merchant bravelier fraught,  
In dearer slippers or a richer draft?  L. Ram. 
You are an honour to all English Merchants  
As bountiful as rich, as Charitable  
As rich as renowned as any of all.  Gresh. 
I do not this as prodigal of my wealth,  
Rather to show how I esteem that loss  
Which cannot be regained, A London Merchant  
Thus tread on a king's present: jeweller,  
My Factor shall deliver you your money.  
And Lords so please you but to see my School,  
Of the seven learned liberal Sciences,  
Which I have founded here near Bishopsgate,  
I will conduct you. I will make it Lords  
An University within itself,  
And giv't from my revenues maintenance.  
W''re not like those that are not liberal  
Till they be dying, what we mean to give,  
we will bestow, and see done whilst we live.  
Attendance, come, th'ambassador, guess all,  
Your welcome's great, albeit your cheer's but small  Exeunt. Enter Tawnicote with a speed. Taw. 
Hard world, when men dig living out of stones,  
As wretched miserable I am enforced:  
And yet there lives more pity in the earth,  
Then in the flint-bosoms of her children,  
For she's content to have her aged breast  
Mangled with mattocks, rent and torn with spades,  
To give her children and their children bread,  
When man more flinty than her stony Ribs  
That was their mother, neither by entreats,  
Tears, nor complaints will yield them sustenance,  
But 'tis our age's fault the mightier,  
Tear living out of us, we out of her.  Enter Hobson in his gown and slippers. Hob. 
Mother a me what a thick mist is here:  
I walked abroad to take the morning's air,  
And I am out of knowledge, bones a me  
What Meads, what Enclosures have we here?  
How now old Hobson, dote in thine old age?  
A fool a threescore, whether wilt thou wit?  
I crossed the water in my gown and slippers,  
To see my rents and buildings of the Bankside,  
And I am slipped clean out of ken, fore-god  
A woolgathering.  Taw. 
Either mine ear's deceived,  
Or I should know that tongue: 'tis so indeed,  
Each word he speaks makes my torn heart to bleed.  Hob. 
Ha, ha, I smile at my own foolery,  
Now I remember mine old Grandmother  
Would talk of Fairies and Hobgoblins,  
That would lead milkmaids over hedge and ditch,  
Make them milk their M. neighbours kine,  
And ten to one this Robin Godfellow,  Tawnicote digs. 
Hath led me up and down the mad man's maze.  
I hear some company, for shame all whist,  
Sit thee down Hobson a right man, in the mist.  Taw. 
'tis he alas, when the rough hand of want  
Hath cast us down, it loads us with mishaps:  
I broke my day with him, O had that fatal hour  
Broken me heart: and Villain that I was,  
Never so much as write in my excuse,  
And he for that default hath sewed my bill.  
And with an execution is come down  
To seize my household stuff, imprison me,  
And turn my wife and children out of doors.  
What shall I fly him? no he's pitiful:  
Then with my tears I will importune him:  
God save you M. Hobson.  Hob. 
Hobson, Bones a me,  
What voice is that? art thou a man, or friend?  
Tell me if thou be'st that Will of the wisp,  
That lead'st me this wild Morris: I conjure thee  
To leave me to myself.  Tim. 
O M. Hobson,  
As ever you have been a poor man's friend,  
Continue still so, Insult not o'er thy fortunes,  Hob. 
I am in the mist, what art thou, speak?  Tim. 
A Debtor of your worships.  Hob. 
A Debtor of mine, mother of me thou liest,  
I know thee not, nor do I know this place:  
If thou owest me any thing, pay me with thy love,  
And if thou be'st acquainted in these woods,  
Conduct me to some Town, or direct road  
That leads to London, and i'll here discharge thee  
Of debts and duties, and beside impart  
Somewhat to cherish thee.  Taw. 
What should I think?  
He knows me, and for fear I should escape him,  
He would entice me to the Officers.  
O Master Hobson though not for mine own,  
Yet for my wife and my poor children's sakes,  
If your intent be to imprison me,  
Upon my knees I do entreat you spare me:  
The goods you trusted me withal, I have not wasted  
In riot and excess, but my kind heart,  
Seeing my helpless neighbours in distress,  
By reason of the long and extreme dearth,  
Some I relieved, some trusted with my goods,  
Whose poverties not able to repay.  
Then bear with me a little, your rich store  
Hath saved my life and fed a hundredth more.  Hob. 
Now bones a me another tawny-coat:  
What's thy name Knave?  Taw. 
john Roland sir,  Hobson. 
Bones a me!  
I thought as much: art not thou Tawnycoat?  Taw. 
I am the man whom you called Tawnycoat.  Hob. 
And I the Hobson that will pity thee:  
Now bones a me, what makest thou with a spade?  Taw. 
This spade alas, 'tis all the wealth I have,  
When my poor wife and children cry for bread,  
They still must cry till these have purchased it:  
They must go naked till these hardened hands,  
When the cold breath of Winter strikes on them,  
Till these have earned it.  Hob. 
Now alas good soul,  
It melts my heart to hear him, and mine eyes  
Could weep for company, what earn'st a day?  Taw. 
Little God knows:  
Though I be stirring earlier than the Lark,  
And at my labour later than the Lamb,  
Towards my wife and children's maintenance,  
I scarcely earn me threepence by the day.  Hob. 
Alas the while, poor soul I pity them,  
And in thy words as in a looking-glass,  
I see the toil and travel of the country,  
And quiet gain of cities blessedness.  
heavens will for all, and should not we respect it  
We were unworthy life: but bones of me,  
Dost thou think to pay me twenty pound,  
And keep thy charge, earning a groat a day?  Taw. 
God bless my labours, I hope I shall,  
I have this quarter by exceeding thrift,  
Bare clothing, and spare diet scraped together  
Five shillings in a purse which I lay up,  
Towards your worship's debt.  Hob. 
Give it me, somewhat hath some savour,  
And yet shall I spend that which the poor labourer got?  
No God forbid, old Hobson near will eat,  
Rather than surfeit upon poor men's sweat:  
Take it again, and by thy children bread.  
But soft the mist doth break, what town is this?  Taw. 
Dedford and it like your worship.  Enter timothy, Hob. 
Bones a me, to Detford came I to do charity:  
I see 'twas God's appointment,  
But who comes here, bones a me honest Tim,  
'twas said in London you were bound for France,  
And I determined to have write by you.  Tim. 
By yea and nay, M. Hobson 'tis no untruth, I was bound for France, landed in France, dispatched some secret business for a sister in France, and from her have french tokens to deliver to the sister hood, whom I shall first encounter in England.  Hob. 
Bones a me Tim, so speedy in your journey,  
It seems your business was of much import.  Tim. 
Verily it was, and it stood chiefly between two women: & as you know women love to have their business dispatched.  Hob. 
Mother a me Tim, I am glad of it,  
But how does my factor john Gresham in France?  Tim. 
You gravely may better consider of that then I can discourse, but withal I pray you think he is a wild youth: there are Taverns in France, yet I do not think john Gresham is given to frequent them, & yet I must remember you, he is a youth, and youth may be drawn to expenses, England's on this side France, on it, the Sea betwixt him and his Master, but I do not think him guilty, yet I could say.  Hob. 
Mother of me, leave of these Parables,  
And tell me plainly, is he not a wencher?  Tim. 
By yea, and by nay sir without Parable, I am no tell-tale, I have seen him in company with Madonna such a one, or such a one, it becomes not flesh and blood to reveal: your worship knows he is in France, the Sea betwixt him and you, and what a young youth in that case is prone unto: your gravity is wise, I'll not say so much as I saw him drinking with a French Lady, or Lass in a Tavern, because your gravity is wise, but if I had, it had been less than perhaps you imagine on such a wild youth, as he no question does deserve.  Hob. 
Mother of me 'tis so, In a French Tavern  
Kissing the Lady, and the Sea betwixt us:  
I am for you M. john: thus in my gown and slippers,  
And nightcap and gown i'll step over to France,  
Here Tawnycoat, receive thou my sealed ring,  
Bear it to my Factor, bid him by that token  
Sort thee out forty pounds worth of such wares  
As thou shalt think most beneficial:  
Thou art a freeman, up with thy Trade again,  
I'll raise thee Roland, if God say Amen.  Taw. 
I know not how.  Hob. 
Tut bones a me man peace,  
Hobson will do't; Tou owest me but twenty pound,  
I'll venture forty more, Timothy here shall be thy witness  
To my Factor in this business.  
To all our friends in London say, I am gone  
over to France, I am for your M. john.  Exeunt. Enter john and Courtesan. Courtez. 
Sweet youth thou art too young, and yet scarce ripe  
To taste the sweetness of my mellowed love.  john. 
That's the reason I set thy teeth an edge thus, but thou know'st I promised to have about with thee at our last parley, and I am come to perform my word, name the weapon.  Curtez. 
Nothing but kisses, and enticing looks,  john. 
Then ward your lips well, or you'll ha' the first venney.  
I have no ward but this; my tender Sex  
Have not the manly skill to break a thrust:  
Oh how I dote on thee! I have tried ere now  
The sweaty Spaniard, and the carousing Dane,  
The foggy dutchman, and the fiery French,  
The brisk Italian, and indeed what not:  
And yet of all and all, the Englishman  
Shall go for me: I yo'are the truest Lovers,  
The ab est, last night, and the truest men  
That breath beneath the Sun.  john. 
Why then the Englishman for thy money, God a mercy little rogue, there's no love lost i'll assure thee. I am my Master's Factor, and thou hast a Commodity that I must needs take up, and not en er't into his Cash-book neither. Little thinks my master in England, what ware I deal withal here in France: but since 'tis offered me at the best hand, i'll venture on't though I be a looser by the bargain.  Cur. 
I would be private, lest the tell-tale air  
Whisper our love. I prithee let us in,  
To the inner chamber, I am jealous  
Of all eyes but mine own to look upon thee,  
I would have none to see thee but myself:  
In amorous arms to fold thee but myself:  
To associate, talk, discourse or dally with thee:  
Clip, grasp hands, or kiss thee but myself.  john. 
Who would not be a Merchant venturer, and lie out for such a fair return; I shall venture the doubling of my years presently: I think I have met with a better Commodity than Matches, and my Master cannot say but he hath met with his match: this 'tis to have the Land & the Sea betwixt me & my mast, here can I keep my french Revels, and none say so much as black is mine eye, preach little pinkany bestow this jewel a me.  Curtez. 
This jewel's a Love: ask my life 'tis thine:  
But this an English factor whom you know  
Gave me at his departure out of Rhone,  
And I have vowed to keep it for his sake,  
Any thing but this jewel.  john. 
But if I could get his jewel cleanly, and carry it him over at my return for a token, 'twere a jest worth laughing at: but and thou wilt not give me this jewel, prithee give me this same chain to were for thy sake.  Curtez. 
This was another countryman of yours,  
He made me swear to keep't till his return:  
Ask me aught else, 'tis thine.  john. 
Why then this Ring.  Curtez 
That you of all the favours that I wear  
Could find out nothing but this ring? This ring,  
A toy not worth the giving: yet I sooner  
Would part with life than this, a dying friend  
Bequeathed it at his death: But honey Love  
What shouldst thou talk of giving, 'tis a word  
Worn out of use, it sounds not well in French:  
A man should still say take, take to his Wench.  john. 
Then I say take, take this and this, still take heed of me lest I show you a slippery trick for this, 'tis the kindest wench in Christendom, but she'll part with nothing:  
Shall we have another wooing Room?  Curtez. 
What Rome thou pleasest, dear heart I agree,  
Where ere I go, there shall be room for thee.  john. 
Any then, I may chance to make you wish rather my room then, my company and you look not the better to't.  They withdraw: Enter at the other end of the Stage, Hobson in his Gown and slippers. Hobson. 
I have slipped o'er into France, and in my slippers  
Given all my friends the slip, to see this Gallant  
My man, he that hath matched me: bones a me,  
The knave's a Prophet, else it could not be.  
he's not at his Lodging; yet by an English Factor,  
A fellow knows not me, I was directed  
Unto this house, I'll know what business  
The knave hath here. Pulsat.  Intrat Puella. Wench. 
whose's there? whose's at the door? (man?  Hob. 
Damsel good day, is there not a fellow here an Englishman Here's? an Englishman, but none of your fellow neither: I hope sir we are not all fellows at football.  Hob. 
Nay bones a me Girl, there's no reason we should he fellows, but prithee my wench is there not one jack Gresha here?  Wench 
No goodman look like a Goose, but there's one M. john Gresham an English Gentleman here: and you know no manners, you would be caught some.  Hob. 
Bones a me goodman Master, Master servant,  
Old goodman Hobson keeps Gentlemen to his men  
Jack turned to M. john, mary sir reverence,  
The french maid taught me manners: well I hope  
We shall have a sight of the Gentleman.  Wench. 
As you use yourself you may, and you may not.  Exit Ambo. Fact: Curtiz. john. 
Thou seest this jewel well becomes mine ear,  
This Ring my finger, and this chain mine arm.  Curtez. 
I'll be thy jewel at thy lips i'll hang,  
And as this Ring thy finger compasseth,  
So shall these arms thy waste: these are but toys,  
Let me displace them.  Intrat Puella. Wench: 
M. John here's a fellow below would speak with you.  john. 
With me, what is he?  Wench. 
A simple coxcomb, i'll call him up to you.  john. 
Do my sweet Buffamacke: some Carrier or base knave that hangs of my liberality: I hope 'tis not pure Tim, come for the second part of my benevolence:  
Admit him in that he may praise our fate,  
And see us in our choicest pomp and state.  Wench. 
Here's the fellow I told you of sir.  Intrat Hobson. john. 
zounds my Master.  Hob. 
Sante amen: Man john, a wenchart Knave, rack and manger knave: bones a me, cannot a snatch and away serve your turn, but you must lie at rack and manger? Is this the ware you deal with servant john?  john. 
chapman's aware sir.  Hob. 
Sirrah, Sirrah, the dealing with such war belongs not to our Trade: bones a me knave, a Prentice must not occupy for himself but for his Master, to any purpose.  john. 
And he cannot occupy for his Master without the consent of his Mistress.  Hob. 
Come you're a knave.  Ioh: 
Of your own bringing up sir.  Hobs. 
Besides, thou canst not keep open shop here, because thou art a foreigner, by the laws of the Realm.  Ioh. 
Not within the liberty: but I hope the suburbs tolerates any man or woman to occupy for themselves, they may do't in the City too, and they be naturalised once.  Hobs: 
ay but sirrah, I'll have none of my English Prentices frenchified; bones a me knave, I'll have thee deal with no such broken Commodities.  Ioh: 
Your Worship must have such as the Country yields, or none at all. But I pray ye sir, what's our trade?  Hobs. 
What sayst thou knave?  john. 
That your worship is a Haberdasher of all wares.  Hobs. 
Bones of me, a Haberdasher of small wares.  Ioh: 
And that the worst trade in all Christendom, and especially for French women: If they know a man to be a Haberdasher of small ware, they'll have no dealing with him, and therefore and you will have any good Commodities here, you must change your copy, you never were a traveler: and therefore you know not what belongs to't; but you do clean mistake this Gentlewoman, and you take her for a light wench, weigh her in equal balance, and you shall find her no such woman, no such woman I'll assure you.  Hobs: 
No, what is she then john?  Ioh: 
Fore God sir, I would not have you wrong the Gentlewoman's repute, for a world. This Metressa deals for herself and hath many sorts of ware at command, I was now bargaining with her about a certain Country Commodity, and had not your coming marred the Match, one had gone through for't. And further should you wrong the Lady's reputation here in France, I'll assure you they have the law of their sides, but to confirm your good opinion of her, this is she of whom I took up your Commodity of Matches; be sorry for your offence, and excuse you to her for shame master.  Hobs: 
Bones a me knave I cannot speak a word of French.  Ioh. 
Nor she of English, but als one; upon her Master, and what you cannot do in words, perform in dumb signs:  
What in your slippers come to take me napping!  
I'll give you what you come for instantly,  
And on the sudden make you so aghast,  
You will be glad to pardon what is passed.  Hobs: 
Madam, I cry you mercy for this wrong  
Done to your Ladyship, I did suspect you  
For a bad liver, but I see you clear,  
For which mistake, I do remain your servant.  Courtez: 
Gramercy monsieur.  Hobs: 
How, would you my grey Mare see? If it like your Ladyship, I came by water, and neither of Mares back, nor horse back.  Courtez: 
No, no point parla Francoi.  Hobs: 
No indeed Lady, my name is not Francis, your servant and john Hobson.  Courtez: 
No point?  Hobs. 
No points; yes indeed Lady, I have points at my hose, though I go untrust.  Courtez: 
No point parla.  Hobs: 
I have no points in my parlour indeed, but I have a hundred pounds worth in my shop.  Intrat Ioh: cum aliis Fact. john. 
Tush fear not lads, for he knows none of you,  
Do but buff out a little broken French,  
And he'll never take you to be Englishmen.  Omnes Fact. 
We'll second the other, but manage it.  Ioh. 
Be patient I beseech you Gentlemen,  
Though you be officers, appointed here  
To search suspected places, as this is  
A most notorious filthy bawdy house,  
And carry all old rusty Fornicators  
Above the age of fifty unto prison,  
Yet know, this is an honest Gentleman.  Hobs. 
A search, and this a bawdy house! why john,  
Bones a me knave, How comes this to pass?  1. Fact. 
Measar man a moy.  Hobs. 
How, must you have money of me? I'll know wherefore first, by your leaves.  john. 
Nay Master I would it were but a money matter,  
A Cage, or whipping-post, or so, 'tis worse:  
What an old man to chide his Prentice hence,  
As if he had some private business,  
And then himself get close unto his wench;  
Nay whip's all too good, had you found me so,  
There had been work enough, there had been news  
For England, and a whole twelve months chiding  
Of my good uncle.  2. Factor 
je vow strae sau Amise.  Hobs. 
How, must I go to prison for doing amiss?  Ioh. 
To prison? nay to whipping, I am sorry,  
And to my power I will entreat for you: Fie Master, fie.  Hobs. 
Bones a me john, is not this a Lady?  Ioh. 
No by my troth Master, such as in the garden-allys, joan's as good as this French Lady.  Hobs. 
Is not this Gentlewoman a dealer?  
And hath she not a good commodity?  Ioh. 
Yes by my faith sir, I confess both.  Hobs. 
Hath she not aware?  Ioh. 
She hath, and at a reasonable reckoning.  Hobs. 
And may not then a chapman deal with her?  Ioh. 
Marry may ye sir, and I'll send news to your wife of your  
The cause of your coming to France shallbe known, (dealing:  
And what second hand commodities you took up  
Since your coming, my mistress in England shall know  
What utterance you have for your small wares in France:  
Pen and ink, I'll set it down in black and white,  Hobs 
Bones a me john, what john? why honest john?  Ioh. 
Hearty commendations— understand— reverend master Hobson found with a whore in Rouen,— place, a common bawdy house,— must be whipped.  Hobs 
No more good john.  Ioh 
You have had none yet,— whipped about the town.  Hobs: 
sweet honest john, why bones a me knave john.  Io. 
In witness whereof, all these honest gentlemen eye-witnesses, have set to their hands, nay my mistress shall know't, that's flat: are there not Wenches enough in England, but you must walk over sea in your slippers, and venture (being not shod) to come into France a wenching, what an old man too! she shall know what a slippery trick you would have served her in your slippers in France.  Hobs: 
Nay, bones a me john, friends, sweet john all friends;  
I do confess thou'st o'erreached thy master.  
Ca me, ca thee, conceal this from my wife,  
And I'll keep all thy knavery from thine uncle.  Ioh: 
Well sir, In hope of amendment, I am content, and yet  Hobs: 
Nay, bones a me, I'll take you at your word,  
Besides I hope these honest Gentlemen  
Will save my credit.  Ioh: 
I'll entreat for you.  Hobs: 
'tis Logic to me sir, I understand you not.  Ioh: 
Marry sir they say, if you will walk with them to their lodgings, for my sake they invite you to dinner.  Hobs. 
God a mercy Gentlemen, God a mercy john, but bones a me knave, where are their lodgings?  Ioh: 
Hard by, for why do you ask?  Hobs: 
I hope they'll bring me to no more bawdy houses,  
I would not be taken napping again for two and one:  
But Gentlemen I'll accept of courtesy, and then john  
You shall with me to England, we'll show France  
Our backs. And you will needs deal for yourself,  
Afore your time, you shall do't in England.  
Will you walk Gentlemen?  Curtes: 
adieu monsieur, and Gresham farewell too,  
No more of French love, no more french loss shall do.  Exeunt. Enter sir Thomas Ramsey being Maior, Sheriff, Sword-bearer. &c. Sir Tho: 
Well said my Masters, see all things be ready,  
To give her Majesty such entertain  
As may grace London, and become the state  
Her highness brings along,  
where's the Queen now?  
She comes along the Strand from Somerset house,  
Through Temple-bar, down Fleetstreet, and the cheap,  
The North side of the Burse to bishop's gate,  
And dines at master Gresham's, and appoints  
To return on the South side through Cornhill,  
And there when she hath viewed the rooms above,  
And walks below, she'll give name to the Burse.  Sheriff. 
The streets are fit, and all the Companies  
Placed in their liveries 'gainst her return.  
But my Lord Maior, shall these ambassadors  
This day have audience?  Sir Thom: 
Admittance if not audience was granted,  
See therefore Trumpets, and all kinds of Music  
Be placed against her royal interview,  
The steps with Arras spread where she ascends,  
Besides give charge unto the shopkeepers  
To make their best shows in the upper rooms,  
Because the Queen intends to compass it.  Sheriff. 
'tis done my Lord.  Trumpets a far off. Sir Tho: 
The Queen hath dined, the Trumpets sound already,  
And give note of her coming, bid the Waits  
And hautboys to be ready at an instant.  Enter at one door the Queen, Lecester, Sussex, Lords, Gresham; at the other Cassemer, the French and Florentine Ambassadors, Sir Tho. Ramsey, &c. Queen. 
Lester and Sussex, are those the Ambassadors?  Lest. 
They are dread Sovereign, he that foremost stands,  
The Emperors, the second is the French,  
The last is the Florentine.  Queen. 
We will receive them.  Here the Queen entertains the Ambassadors, and in their several languages confers with them. 
Sussex and Lester place the ambassadors,  
We at our Court of Greenwich will dilate  
Further of these designs, where's Gresham?  Gresh. 
Your humble subject and servant.  Queen. 
Our leisure now serves to survey your Burse,  
A goodly frame, a rare proportion.  
This City our great Chamber cannot show us  
To add unto our same, a monument  
Of greater beauty: Leicester what sayst thou?  Lecest. 
That I my Sovereign have not seen the like.  Queen. 
Sussex nor you?  Enter Hobson. Suss. 
Madam not I: This Gresham's work of stone,  
Will live to him when I am dead and gone.  Hob. 
God bless thy Grace Queen Bess.  Queen. 
Friend, what are you?  Hob. 
Knowest thou not me Queen? than thou knowest no  
Bones a me Queen, I am Hobson, and old Hobson (body:  
By the Stocks, I am sure you know me.  Queen. 
What is he Leicester, dost thou know this fellow?  
Gresham or you?  Gresh. 
May it please your Majesty,  
He is a rich substantial Citizen.  Hob. 
Bones a me woman send to borrow money  
Of one you do not know, there's a new trick:  
Your Grace sent to me by a Pursuivant,  
And by a privy Seal to lend your Highness  
An hundred pound: I hearing that my Queen  
Had need of money, and thinking you had known me,  
Would needs upon the bearer, force two hundred:  
The Queen should have had three rather than fail,  
I by this hand Queen Bess, I am old Hobson  
A Haberdasher, and dwelling by the Stocks:  
When thou seest money with thy Grace is scant,  
For twice five hundred pound thou shalt not want.  Queen. 
Upon my bond.  Hob. 
No, no my Sovereign,  
I'll take thine own word without skrip or scroll.  Queen. 
Thanks honest Hobson, as I am true maid,  
I'll see myself the money back repaid:  
Thou without grudging lendest, thy Purse is free,  
Honest as plain.  Suss. 
A true well meaning man I warrant him.  Gresh: 
Your Majesty promised to give the name  
To my new Burse.  Queen. 
Gresham we will. A Herald and a Trumpet.  Lest. 
A Herald and a Trumpet.  Queen. 
Proclaim through every high street of this city,  
This place to be no longer called a Burse,  
But since the building's stately, fair and strange,  
Be it for ever called, the Royal Exchange.  A flourish here. 
And whilst this voice flies through the city forthright,  
Arise Sir Thomas Gresham now a Knight.  
Be our Ambassadors conducted all  
Unto their several lodgings: this 23. of january  
A thousand, five hundred, and seventy, Elizabeth  
Christens this famous work: now to our Court  
Of Greenwich; Gresham, thanks for our good cheer:  
We to our people, they to us are dear.  Enter Nowell and Lady Ramsie. Lady Ram: 
What think you of my Husband master Deane,  Now: 
As of all men, we are mortal, made of clay,  
Now healthful, now crazy; now sick, now well;  
Now live, now dead, and then to heaven, or hell.  La. Ram: 
It cheers my heart, now in his deep of sickness,  
He is so charitable, and so well addicted  
Unto the poor's relief.  Now: 
It joys me too:  
Great is the number of the rich in show  
About the City, but of the charitable,  
There are but few.  La. Ram. 
Amongst these, I hold old Hobson well deserves  
To be ranked equal with the bountiful'st:  
He hath raised many falling, but especially  
One master Rowland, one called Tawnycoat:  
But now an able Citizen late chosen  
A Master of the Hospital.  Now. 
I know him well,  
A good sufficient man, and since he purchased  
His Freedom in the City God hath blessed  
His travail with increase.  Lady Ram: 
I have known old Hobson,  
Sit with his neighbour Gunter a good man,  
In Christ's Church morn by morn, to watch poor couples  
That come there to be married, and to be  
Their common fathers, and give them in the Church,  
And some few Angels for a dower to boot,  
Besides they two are called the common gossips  
To witness at the fund for poor men's Children,  
Nor they refuse that on their help do call,  
And to speak truth, they're bountiful to all.  Enter Hobson. Hobs. 
Good morrow Master Doctor; my good Lady!  
Bones a me woman, thou look'st sad today,  
Thou hast not drunk a cup of sack this morning.  Lady Ram. 
We have been dealing of our charity  
This morning, to poor soldiers such as want.  Hobs. 
God's blessing of your heart, need must be fed,  
Let us that have it give the hungry bread.  Enter Rowland alias Tawnicote. Taw. 
Where's master Hobson?  Hobs. 
My new elected master of the Hospital,  
What hasty news with you?  Taw. 
Oh sir, the love I bear you makes me chary  
Of your good name, your credit's dear to me;  
You never were condemned for any thing,  
Since I had first acquaintance with your name;  
As now you are, you have done a deed this day,  
That hath from you ta'en all good thoughts away.  Hobs. 
Where? bones a me why? speak, why?  Taw. 
This day, you have pursued the law severely  
Against one Timothy, that stole from you  
A hundred pound, and he's condemned for it,  
And this day he must die.  Hobs. 
Bones man, 'tis not so.  Taw. 
He is by this, half way to Tyburn gone;  
The suit was followed in john Gresham's name,  
How can you then avow you know it not?  Hobs. 
A horse, a horse, carthorse, malt horse, anything  
To save the knaves life, I protest, I swear  
This was the first time that I heard the knave  
Hath been in any trouble, bones of me,  
'twas done without my knowledge.  Taw. 
Young Gresham in his name pursued his life.  Hob. 
They are knaves both, a Horse,  
A hundred thousand pound cannot make a man:  
A hundred shall not hang one by my means:  
Men are more worth than money M. Roland,  
Come help me to a horse, the next I meet,  
To save the knave's life gallops through the street.  Exit Hobson and Tawnicote. Now. 
Men are more worth than money, 'a says true:  
'tis said by many but maintained by few.  Lady. 
He is plain and honest, how many great professors  
Live in this populous City, that make show  
Of greater zeal, yet will not pay so dear  
For a transgressor's life: but few are found,  
To save a man would lose a hundred pound.  Enter Tawincote. Now. 
So suddenly returned?  Taw. 
He rid to fast for me he hath been at buffets  
With a poor Collier, and upon his horse,  
Is without saddle, bridle, boots or spurs,  
Galloped toward S. Gyles.  Now. 
They will take him for a mad man.  Taw. 
all's one to him he does not stand on bravery  
So he may do men good, good deeds excel:  
And though but homely done, may be done well:  Lady. 
Heaven prosper his intent: now M. Doctor,  
And M. Roland, let me crave your companies,  
To see my crazy husband, who hath made you  
One of his executors, and would use your pains  
In these extremes of sickness.  Now. 
I am pleased  
I'll give him physic for a soul diseased.  Exeunt. Enter three Lords. 1. 
You are an early riser, my good Lord,  2 
The blood of Youth that traffics in the court  
Must not be sluggish, your kind remembrance: (the train  3 
My very good Lord, we that are stars that weight upon  
Of such a Cynthia under which we live  
Must not be Tarde.  1. 
You have said true, we are starters in one hour,  
And our attendance is to weight one such a Queen,  
Whose virtue all the world: but to leave that  
Which every tongue is glad to commune with,  
Since monsieurs first arrival in the land,  
The time that he was here, and the time since,  
What royalty hath been in England's Court,  
Both princely reveling, and warlike sport.  2. 
Such sports do fitly fit our Nation,  
That foreign eyes beholding what we are,  
May rather seek our peace, then wish our water.  3. 
Heaven bless our Soon reign from her foe's intent,  
The peace we have; is by her government.  Enter Doctor Parry. 1. 
M. Doctor Parry.  2. 
Good Morrow M. Doctor.  3. 
You are an early riser sir.  Doctor. 
My Lord, my Lord, my very good Lord.  1. 
This Summer morning makes us covetous  
To take the profit of the pleasant air.  Doct. 
'tis healthful to be stirring in a Morning.  2. 
It hath pleased the Queen to show him many favours.  3. 
You say but right, and since his last disgrace,  
The cause so great it had surely touched his life,  
Had not the Queen been gracious: he seems at Court  
A man more gracious in our sovereign's eye  
Then greater subjects.  2. 
She hath given him much preferment,  
In greatest place graced him with conference:  
Asked for him in his absence, and indeed  
Made known to us he is one in her regard.  3. 
But did you never here the cause of his disgrace?  3. 
He did intend the murder of a Gentleman,  
One M. Hares here of the Inner Temple,  
And so far brought his purpose to effect,  
That M. Hare being private in his Chamber,  
He watching as he thought fit time, broke in upon him:  
But he assaulted so, behaved himself,  
That he did guard himself, and attached him.  
From whence he was committed unto Newgate,  
And at the Sessions by twelve honest men,  
Found guilty of Burglary and condemned to die:  
And had died, had her Grace not pardoned him.  2. 
she is a gracious Princess unto all,  
Many she raiseth, wisheth none should fall.  1. 
Fie M. Doctor,  
Your face bears not the habit it was wont,  
And your discourse is altered, what's the matter?  Doct. 
And if my brow be sad or my face pale,  
They do bely my heart, for I am merry.  1. 
Men being as you are, so great in grace  
With such a royal Princess, have no reason.  Enter a Gentleman. Gent. 
Room Gentlemen for my L. high Steward.  Enter the Earl of Lecester, all the Lords flock after him, & exeunt. Manet Parry. Doct. 
The discontend desire to be alone,  
My wishes are made up, for they are gone.  
Here are no blabs but this, and this one clock  
I'll keep from going with a double lock:  
Yet it will strike, this day it must be done.  
What must be done? what must this engine do?  
A deed of treason hath prepared me too.  
These too, these too, why they had life by her,  
And shall these two kill their deliverer?  
The life that makes me rise? these once my sin  
Had forfeited, her mercy pardoned me:  
I had been eaten up with worms ere this,  
Had not her mercy given a life to this:  
And yet these hands if I perform my oath,  
Must kill that life, that gave a life to both.  
I have ta'en the Sacrament to do't, conferred  
With Cardinal Cemo about it, and received  
Full absolution from his Holiness,  
Been satisfied by many holy fathers,  
During my travels both in France and italy,  
The deed is just and meritorious,  
And yet I am troubled when I do remember  
The excellency of her Majesty,  
And I would fain desist, but that I know  
How many vows of mine are gone to heaven,  
My letters and my promises on earth,  
To holy fathers and grave Catholics:  
That I would do't for good of Catholics.  
Then in the Garden where this day she walks,  
Her graces I will cast behind mine eyes,  Enter Gen. 
And by a subjects hand, a Sovereign dies.  Gent. 
Clear the way Gentlemen for the Queen:  
Master Doctor Parry.  Exit Gent. Doct. 
O, let me see a difference in this man!  
Before this Queen (that I am come to kill)  
show'd me the gracious eye of her respect,  
And gave me countenance 'mongst greatest Earls:  
This man was forwarder to thrust me forth,  
Then now he is humble to accept me in.  
If then her Grace hath honoured me so much,  
How can this hand give her a treacherous touch?  
The Trumpets speak, heaven what shall I do?  
even what hell, & my damned heart shall thrust me too.  Enter Queen, Lecester, and Lords. Queen. 
Fair day my Lords, you are all Larks this morning,  
Up with the Sun, you are stirring early.  Lecest. 
We are all subjects to your sovereign's light.  Queen. 
That you call duty we accept as love,  
And we do thank you, nay we thank you all;  
'tis not to one, but 'tis in general.  Lest. 
The Queen would walk apart, forbear my Lords.  Doct. 
Now, what makes me shake?  
Do Angels guard her, or doth heaven partake  
Her refuge?  Queen. 
In such a Garden may a Sovereign,  
Be taught her loving subjects to maintain;  
Each Plant unto his nature and his worth,  
Having full cherishing, it springeth forth.  
Weeds must be weeded out, yet weeded so,  
Till they do hurt, let them a God's name grow.  Doct. 
Now Queen.  He offers to shoot. Queen. 
Who's there, my kind friend M. Doctor Parry?  Doct. 
My must dread Sovereign.  Queen. 
Why do you tremble M. Doctor? have you any suit to us?  
Shake not at us, we do our Subjects love,  
Or does thy face show signs of discontent  
Through any heavy want oppresseth thee?  
Though at our Court of Greenwich thou wert crossed  
In suing to be Master of Saint Katherine's,  
To do thee good seek out a better place,  
she'll give thee that, the which hath given thee grace.  Doct. 
I know your love dread Queen: Now.  Queen. 
M. Doctor, about the talk we had together,  
Of English Fugitives that seek my life:  
You told me of them I am beholding to you.  Doct. 
I did no more than duty: O happy time!  Queen: 
And will they still persist? do they desire my blood?  
That wake when I should sleep to do them good.  Doct. 
Madam.  Queen. 
O my maker! Parry, Villain, Traitor,  
What dost thou with that Dag?  Doct. 
Pardon dread Sovereign.  Queen. 
Pardon thou villain, shows thou art a Traitor,  
Treason my Lords, Treason.  Enter the Lords. Lest. 
Ha, by the blessed place of heaven, treason & we so near?  
A Traitor with a Dag, God's holy mother.  
Lords guard the Queen: are you not frighted Madam?  
I'll play the Sergeant to arrest the wretch.  Queen. 
Be not so rash good Leicester, he's dead already,  
Struck with remorse of that he was come to do:  
Pray let me speak with him? Say M. Doctor,  
Wherein have I deserved an ill of you,  
Unless it were an ill in pardoning you.  
What have I done toward you to seek my life,  
Unless it were in taking you to grace.  Doct. 
Mercy dread Queen.  Queen. 
I thank my God, I have mercy to remit  
A greater sin, if you repent for it.  Arise. Lecest. 
My Lords what do you mean, take hence that villain,  
Let her alone, she'll pardon him again:  
Good Queen we know you are too merciful,  
To deal with Traitors of this monstrous kind.  
Away with him to the tower, then to death,  
A traitor's death, shall such a Traitor have,  
That seeks his sovereign's life that did him save.  Queen. 
Good Leicester.  Lest. 
Good Queen you must be ruled.  Exeunt. Enter Jack Gresham. john. 
Nay 'sfoot Jack, hold on thy resolution: they say, that may happen in one hour that happens not again in 7. year, and I should chance to take her in the right vain, and she kindly bestow herself upon me, why then there's a man made from nothing, for before God I have spent all and am not worth any thing, and indeed unless this same good old Lady Ramsey take some pity upon me & take me for better for worse, God knows in which of the two Counters I shall keep my next Christmas in, but by this hand if she will accept of me in this miserable estate that I am in now, for before God, I have neither money nor credit, as I am an honest man, and that's more I am feared, than any man will believe of me, i'll forswear all women but her, & will not kiss any of my neighbour's wives for a kingdom. here's the house, I'll knock at the door: what shall I do't in the Cavellere humour, with whose's within there Ho, or in the Puritan humour, with by your leave good brother: faith in neither, for in the one I shall be taken for a swaggering knave, and in the other to be an hypocritical fool: but honest Jack in thine own honest humour plain deal's a jewel, and I have used it so long I am next door to a beggar.  Enter 2: Creditors. 
But God's precious, what a plague make these here? these 2. are two of my Creditors, I must stop their mouths, fleet them from hence, or all the fat's in the fire.  1. 
M. Gresham, you are well met.  john. 
I hope Gentlemen you will say so anon. But you are alone, are you not?  2. 
Alone M. Gresham, why do you ask?  john. 
A man hath reason to ask, being as I am, that never seeth his Creditors, but is afraid of the Catchpole. But you are kind my friends, and I thank you, you will bear with me.  1. 
ay but M. Gresham, a man may bear till his back break.  john: 
ay, Porters may; but you, that are substantial honest Citizens, there is no fear to be made of your breaking, you know there's no man so low but God can raise him; and though I am now out at heels, or so as you think, I am in the way of preferment, & hope to be able to pay every man within this hour.  1. 
We should be glad to see it.  2. 
But how pray Sir?  john. 
How? why very easily, if I can compass it: The truth is, though you would little think it, I am a suitor for my L. Ramsey.  1. 
But I dare swore she is no suitor to you.  Enter Lady Ramsie, and D. Nowel. john. 
Why that's true too; for if she were a Suitor to me, we should be man and wife straight & you should have your money within this half hour. But look, look where she comes: as you are goodmen mum, patience and pray for my proceedings: If I do speed as I am partly persuaded, you shall have your own with the advantage, if I should be crossed you know the worst, forbearance is no acquittance: but mum, if it prove a match & any of you should chance to be in the Counter, you know my marriage being spread, my word will be currant, then mum.  Now. 
Madam you are welcome into Lumberstreet.  Lady. 
I thank your courtesy, good M. Deane.  Ioh: 
See how fortunately all things chance, if it happen as I hope it will, she taking a liking to me, here is a Priest to marry us presently Madam.  Lady: 
Would you any business with me sir?  john. 
Faith Lady necessary business, & not to go far about the bush, I am come to be a Suitor unto you, & you know the fashion of young men when they come a-wooing to ancient widows, the way to speed is to begin thus.  Lady 
You are very forward sir.  Ioh: 
You would say so Lady if you knew how forward I would be: but Madam you are rich, and by my Troth I am very poor, and I have been as a man should say stark nought: but he goes far that never turns, and if now I have a desire to mend & being in so good a way, you know how uncharitable it were in you to put me out of it, you may make an honest man of me, if it, please you, and when thou hast made me one, by my Troth Mall I'll keep myself, for I am a Gentle man both by the father's side and mother's side, and though I have not the muck of the world I have a great deal of good Love, and I prithee accept of it.  Lady. 
M. Deane.  
Do you know this Gentleman's business to me.  Now. 
Not I, believe me Madam.  john. 
I shall have her sure: why i'll tell you Sir, my Lady here is a comely, ancient, rich widow, & I am a honest, proper, poor young man, remembering still I am a Gentleman, now what good her riches may do to her poverty, your gravity may guess: save a soul perhaps M. Deane, look you sir, it is but giving my hand into hers, and hers into mine: M. Deane, I protest before God she hath my heart already, and with some three or four words which I know you have by rote, make us two my Lady and I, one till death us depart.  Lady. 
This Gentleman thinks that to be a matter of nothing. But do you love me as you do protest?  john. 
Love you Madam love you by this hand: I shall have her sure, friends you see how the business goes forward, bring me your bills to morrow morning or upon the hope that I have, you may leave them with me, I shall be able to discharge; Ha, ha, Jack.  Lady. 
How will you maintain me Sir, if I should marry you?  john. 
Maintain, what needst thou ask that question?  
Foot thou hast maintenance enough for thee and I too.  
If I should marry you? Friends, you see how it goes now, tomorrow within an hour after I am married, I must take the upper hand of my Uncle, and the next Sunday I that was scarce worthy to fit in the belfry, the Churchwardens fetch me, and seat me in the Chancel.  Lady. 
M. Deane, I protest, never since I was widow,  
Never did man make so much love to me.  
Sir for your love, I am much beholding to you.  Ioh. 
Do Mall, prithee do not think it so, be chosen one of the common Counsel, or one of the Masters of the Hospital, so perhaps I shall never become it, marry if I should be chosen one of the Masters of Bridewell, for some of my old acquaintance; fut, I would take it upon me, vice must be corrected, vice must be corrected.  Lady Ram: 
Fill me a large cup full of hippocrase,  
And bring me hither 20. li. in gold.  john. 
And one of your husband's Livery Gowns, so now you trouble yourself so much, that gold is to contract us withal: a simple morning: Friends, you cannot beat me down with your bills. M. Deane of Poule's I pray you stay and dine with me you shall not say me nay, the oftener you come, the more welcome.  Now. 
You are merry sir. (cause,  john. 
I thank God, and all the world may see I have no other  
That I am likely to be so well bestowed.  Lady. 
Sir, you shall not say the love you show'd to me,  
Was entertained but with kind courtesy:  
This for your love, unto your health I drink.  
Pledge me.  john. 
I by my troth Mall will I, wear it as deep as a well.  Lady. 
Now for your pains there is twenty pound in gold.  
Nay, take the Cup too sir, thanks for your love:  
And were my thought's bent unto marriage,  
I rather would with you that seem thus wild,  
Then one that hath worse thoughts and seems more mild.  john. 
Foot will you not have me then?  Lady. 
Yes, when I mean to marry any one,  
And that not whilst I live.  john. 
See how a man may be deceived: I thought I should have been sure by this time well, though I shall not have you, I shall have this with a good will.  Lady. 
With all my heart, and for the Love you have shown,  
Wish it to thrive with you even as mine own.  1. 
ToMorrow shall we attend your worship.  2. 
Sir her's my bill, it comes to twenty pound.  john. 
Friends, Ployden's Proverb, The Case is altered and by my troth I have learned you a Lesson, Forbearance is no Acquittance.  Lady. 
What men are these?  john. 
Faith Madam, men that have my hand, though not for my honesty, yet for the money that I owe them.  Lady. 
What doth he owe you?  1. 
fifty pound, madam.  Lady. 
What you?  2. 
A hundred Marks.  Lady. 
I'll pay you both: and sir to do you good,  
To all your Creditors I'll do the like.  john. 
That's said like a kind wench,  
And though we never meet again,  
We will have one Buss more at parting:  
And now i'faith I have all my wild oats sown,  
And if I can grow rich by the help of this,  
I'll say I rose by Lady Ramsey's kiss.  Exeunt. A peal of Chambers. Enter Queen, Hunsdon, Lecester, Drum, Colours, and Soldiers. Queen. 
A stand there Lords. Whence comes this sound of shot?  Lest. 
Please it your Majesty, 'tis thought the Fleet  
Lately discovered by your Subject Flemming,  
Riding along the Coasts of France and Dunkirk,  
Is met and fought with by your Admiral.  Queen. 
Heaven prosper his proceedings; hark my Lords,  
Still it increaseth: Oh had God and Nature,  
Given us proportion manlike to our mind,  
we'd not stand here fenced in a wall of Arms,  
But have been present in these Sea a larmes.  Huns. 
Your royal resolution, hath created  
New spirits in your soldiers breasts, and made  
Of one man three.  Enter a Post. Queen. 
Make way there, what's the news,  Post. 
Your Royal Fleet bids battle to the Spaniards,  
Whose number with the advantage of the wind,  
Gives them great odds but the undaunted worth,  
And well known valour of your Admiral,  
Sir Francis Drake, and Martin Furbisher  
Gives us assured hope of victory.  Queen. 
Where did the royal Navies first encounter?  Post. 
From Dover Cliffs we might discern them join,  
But such a cloud of smoke environed them,  
We could discover nought of their proceedings:  
For the great Spanish Fleet had wind and Tide,  
God and good hearts stand on your grace's side.  Queen. 
there's for thy news: he that first lent me breath,  
Stand in the right of wronged Elizabeth.  Omnes. 
God and his Angels, for Elizabeth.  Enter another Post. Queen. 
Welcome a God's name, what's the news my friend,  
Alas, good man: his looks speaks for his tongue.  
How stands the sea-fight.  Post. 
Much contrarious.  
The Spanish Fleet cast in a warlike Rank  
Like a half Moon, or to a full bent bow,  
Wait for advantage: when amongst the rest  
Sir Martin Furbisher blinded with smoke,  
And fired in heart with emulating honour,  
Gave the proud Spaniard a broad side of shot:  
But being within the compass of their danger,  
The distant corners of the grippled Fleet  
Circled him round: this valiant Furbisher,  
With all his brave and gallant followers,  
Are folded in death's arms.  Queen. 
If he Survive,  
He shall be nobly ransomed: If he die,  
He lives an honour to his Nation.  
How fares our Admiral?  Post. 
Bravely he fights,  
Directs with judgement and with heedful care,  
Offends the Foe: England near bred  
Men that at sea fight better managed.  Queen. 
It cheers my blood and if my God be pleased  
For some neclected duty in ourself,  
To punish us with loss of them at sea,  
His will be done: yet will we pray for them.  
If they return, ourself will be the first  
Will bid them welcome: what saves valiant Leicester?  
Thou wilt not leave me wilt thou? dost thou look pale?  
What says old Hunsdon? nay i'll speak thy part,  
Thy hand old Lord, I am sure I have thy heart.  Huns. 
Both hand and heart.  A noise within crying a Furbisher. Enter a Captain. Queen. 
Then let both heart and hand,  
Be bravely used in honour of our Land.  
Before thou speakest take that if he be dead,  
A Queen will see his Funeral honoured.  Cap. 
When the foes ships  
Had grasped his ships within a steely girdle,  
The valiant Captain overcharged with her,  
Having no room for cowardice or fear,  
Gave all his ordinance a gallant charge,  
Cheered up his soldiers, maned up his fights,  
And standing barehead, bravely on the deck,  
When dangerous shot as thick as April hail  
Dropped by his ears, he waved his warlike sword,  
And with a bold defiance the foe.  
The watchword given, his Ordinance let fly  
With such a fury, that it broke their ranks,  
Shottered their sides and made their warlike ships  
Like drunkards reel, and tumble side to side:  
But to conclude such was the will of heaven,  
The true spirit of that Gentleman,  
That being thought hopeless to be preserved,  
Yet in wars despite and all the Spaniards scoff,  
He brought his ship and soldiers bravely off.  Queen. 
wars spite indeed, and we to do him right,  
The ship he sailed in, fought in, called Wars spite.  
Now noble soldiers rouse your hearts like me,  
To noble resolution: if any here  
There be that love us not, or harbour fear;  
we give him liberty to leave our Camp  
Without displeasure.  
Our Armies royal so be equal our hearts,  
For with the meanest here i'll spend my blood,  
And so to lose it count my only good.  
A March, laed on: we'll meet the worst can fall,  
A maiden Queen will be your General.  They march one way out, at the other door enter Sir Francis Drake with Colours, and Ensigns taken from the Spaniards. 
What mean these Spanish ensigns in the hands  
Of English Subjects?  Drake. 
Honourable Queen,  
They show that Spaniards lives are in the hands  
Of England's Sovereign.  Queen. 
England's God be praised  
But prithee Drake, for well I know thy name,  
And i'll not be unmindful of thy worth:  
Briefly rehearse the danger of the battle,  
Till Furbisher was rescued we have heard.  Drake. 
The danger after that was worse than then:  
Valour a both sides strove to rise with honour,  
As is a pair of Balance once made even,  
So stood the day, inclined to neither side:  
Sometimes we yielded, but like a Ram  
That makes returnment to redouble strength;  
Then forced them yield when our Lord Admiral  
Following the chase: Pedro their Admiral,  
With many Knights and Captains of account,  
Were by his noble deeds ta'en prisoners,  
And under his Conduct are safely kept:  
And are by this time landed at S. Margret's:  
From whence they mean to march along by land,  
And at S. james he'll greet your Majesty.  
These Spanish Ensigns tokens of our Conquest,  
Our Captains took from off their battered ships:  
Such as stood out we sunk, such as submitted,  
Tasted our English mercy, and mercy  
Vassals and prisoners to your Sovereignty.  Quée. 
Next under God, your valours have the praise:  
Dismiss our Camp, and tread a royal March  
Towards S. james, where in martial order  
we'll meet and parley our Lord Admiral,  
And set a ransom of his Prisoners.  
As for those Ensigns see them safely kept,  
And give commandment to the Dean of Paul's,  
He not forget in his next learned Sermon,  
To celebrate this conquest at Paul's Cross:  
And to the Audience in our name declare.  
Our thanks to heaven in universal Prayer:  
For though our enemies be overthrown,  
'tis by the hand of heaven, and not our own.  
On: Sound a call; Now loving Countrymen,  
Subjects, and fellow soldiers, that have left  
Your weeping wives, your goods and children,  
And laid your lives upon the edge of death,  
For good of England, and Elizabeth,  
We thank you all: those that for us would bleed,  
Shall find us kind to them and to their seed.  
we hear dismiss you and dismiss our Camp.  
Again we thank you: pleaseth God we live,  
A greater recompense than thanks we'll give.  All. 
Our lives, and livings for Elizabeth.  Queen. 
Thanks; general thanks.  
Towards London march we to a peaceful throne,  
We wish no wars, yet we must guard our own.  Exeunt.  
FINIS.