The History of Thomas Lord Cromwell (Folio 3, 1664)
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¶
Enter Bagot solus.
335Bag. So all goes well, it is as I would have it,
¶Banister, he is with the Governor:
¶It glads my heart to think upon the slave;
¶I hope to have his body rot in prison,
340And after here, his wife to hang her self,
¶And all his children die for want of food.
¶The Jewels I have brought to Antwerp
¶Are reckon'd to be worth five thousand pound,
345I bought them at an easie kind of rate,
¶I care not which way they came by them
¶That sold them me, it comes not near my heart;
¶I thought it meet to sell them here in Antwerp,
350And so have left them in the Governour's hand,
¶Who offers me within two hundreth pound
¶Of all my price: but now no more of that,
¶He might arrest him here before I came:
¶Crom. And you, pray pardon me, I know you not.
360The man that sent to you the Bills of debt.
¶Here are the Bills of debt you sent to me:
¶As for the man, you know best where he is;
¶It is reported y'ave a flintie heart,
365A mind that will not stoop to any pittie;
¶An eye that knows not how to shed a tear,
¶A hand that's alwayes open for reward:
¶But, Master Bagot, would you be ruled by me,
¶Your mind, according to your state, be liberal
¶Your hand to help them that do stand in want,
¶Rather then with your poise to hold them down,
¶But you must live I know, as well as I:
¶I know this place to be Extortion,
380And 'tis not for a man to keep safe here,
¶But yet I do commend your wit in this,
¶To make a show, of what I hope you are not,
385But I commend you, and 'tis well done;
¶This is the onely way to bring your gain.
¶Crom. My gain? I had rather chain me to an Oare,
¶And like a slave there toil out all my life,
390I, like an Hypocrite, to make a show
¶Of seeming virtue, and a Devil within?
¶No, Bagot, if thy conscience were as clear,
¶Poor Banister ne're had been troubled here.
395I know full well that you are no such man,
¶But if your conscience were as white as Snow,
¶It will be thought that you are otherwise.
¶Let them that think so, know they are deceiv'd;
¶Antwerp, for all the wealth within thy Town,
¶I will not stay here full two houres longer:
¶As good luck serves, my accounts are all made even,
405Bagot, I know you'll to the Governour,
¶Commend me to him, say I am bound to travel,
¶To see the fruitfull parts of Italy;
¶And as you ever bore a Christian mind,
¶To starve his heart out e're he gets a groat;
¶So, Master Cromwell, do I take my leave,
¶
Exit Bagot.
¶To live by falshood, or by brokery;
¶But 't falls out well, I little it repent,
420
Enter Hodge, his Father's man.
¶gone by water: for at Putney I'le go you to Parish-
425any wagging or joulting in my guttes, in a little Boat
¶green Water, but I thinking to go to my afternoons
¶unchines, as 'twas my manner at home, but I felt a kind
¶up with it, thou hast nothing but an Eele in thy belly:
¶Well, to't went I, to my victuals went the Sailers, and
¶thinking me to be a man of better experience then any
435of: they all swore I tould them as right as if I had been
¶acquainted with the Carpenter that made it; at last we
¶grew near Land, and I grew villanous hungry, went to
¶my bagge, the Devil a bit there was, the Sailers had tick-
¶led me; yet I cannot blame them, it was a part of kind-
¶was made of, and they in kindness eat up my victuals, as
¶indeed one good turn asketh another: well, would I,
¶could I, find my Master Thomas in this Dutch Town, he
¶How doth my Father? what's the newes at home?
¶hand, glove and all, this is to give you to understanding
¶that your Father is in health, and Alice Downing here
450hath sent you a Nutmeg, and Bess Makewater a race of
¶Ginger, my fellow Will and Tom hath between them sent
¶you a dozen of Points, and goodman Toll, of the Goat,
¶a pair of Mittons, my Self came in person, and this is all
¶the newes.
455Cro. Gramarcy, good Hodge, & thou art welcome to me,
¶But in as ill a time thou comest as may be;
¶For I am travelling into Italy,
460me of Italy? were it to the furthest part of Flanders, I
¶would go with thee, Tom; I am thine in all weale and
¶the rigorous waves of Neptune's blasts, I tell you, Tho-
¶mas, I have been in danger of the Flouds, and when I
465have seen Boreas begin to play the Ruffin with us, then
¶would I down a my knees, and call upon Vulcan.
¶Crom. And why upon him?
¶the Seas, so Vulcan is Lord over the Smiths, and there-
470fore I being a Smith, thought his Godhead would have
¶some care yet of me.
475And farewell Antwerp, if I come no more.
¶
Exeunt ambo.
