601Hodg. Call ye this seeing of fashions?

602Marry would I had staid at Putney still,

603O, Master Thomas, we are spoiled, we are gone.

604Crom. Content thee man, this is but fortune,

605Hod. Fortune, a plague of this Fortune, it makes me go

606wet-shod, the rogues would not leave me a shooe to my

607feet; for my Hose, they scorned them with their heels;

608but for my Doublet and Hat, ô Lord, they embraced me,

609and unlaced me, and took away my cloathes, and so dis-

610graced me.

611Crom. Well, Hodge, what remedy?

612What shift shall we make now?

613Hodg. Nay I know not, for begging I am naught,

614for stealing worse: by my troth I must even fall to my

615old trade, to the Hammer and the Horse-heels again: but

616now the worst is, I am not acquainted with the humour of

617the Horses in this country; whether they are not coltish,

618given much to kicking, or no, for when I have one leg in

619my hand, if he should up and lay tother on my chops, I

620were gone, there lay I, there lay Hodge.

621Crom. Hodge, I believe thou must work for us both.

622Hod. O, Master Thomas, have not I told you of this?

623have not I many a time and often, said, Tom, or Master

624Thomas, learn to make a Horse-shooe, it will be your

625own another day: this was not regarded. Hark you,

626Thomas, what do you call the fellows that rob'd us?

627Crom. The Bandetti.

628Hod. The Bandetti, do you call them, I know not

629what they are called here, but I am sure we call them

630plain Thieves in England: O, Tom, that we were now

631at Putney, at the Ale there.

632Crom. Content thee, man, here set up these two Bills,

633And let us keep our standing on the Bridge:

634The fashion of this countrey is such,

635If any stranger be oppressed with want,

636To write the manner of his misery,

637And such as are dispos'd to succour him,

638Will do it, what, hast thou set them up?

639Hod. I they're up, God send some to read them,

640And not only to read them, but also to look on us:

642But to relieve us, O cold, cold, cold.

645Fris. What's here? two Englishmen rob'd by the

646 Bandetti,

647One of them seems to be a Gentleman:

648'Tis pitty that his fortune was so hard,

649To fall into the desperate hands of thieves.

650I'le question him, of what estate he is,

651God save you, sir, are you an Englishman?

652Crom. I am, sir, a distressed Englishman.

653Fris. And what are you, my friend.

654Hod. Who I, sir, by my troth I do not know my self,

655what I am now, but, sir, I was a Smith, sir, a poor Far-

656rier of Putney, that's my Master, sir, yonder, I was rob-

657bed for his sake, sir.

658Fris. I see you have been met by the Bandetti,

659And therefore need not ask how you came thus:

660But Friskiball, why do'st thou question them

661Of their estate, and not relieve their need?

662Sir, the coyn I have about me is not much:

663There's sixteen Duckets for to cloath your selves,

664There's sixteen more to buy your diet with,

665And there's sixteen to pay for your horse-hire:

666'Tis all the wealth you see, my purse possesses,

667But if you please for to enquire me out,

668You shall not want for ought that I can do,

669My name is Friskiball, a Florence Merchant:

670A man that alwayes loved your nation.

671Crom. This unexpected favour at your hands,

672Which God doth know, if ever I shall requite it,

673Necessity makes me to take your bounty,

674And for your gold can yield you naught but thanks,

675Your charity hath help'd me from despair;

676Your name shall still be in my hearty prayer.

677Fris. It is not worth such thanks, come to my house,

678Your want shall better be reliev'd then thus.

679Crom. I pray excuse me, this shall well suffice,

680To bear my charges to Bononia,

681Whereas a noble Earl is much distressed:

682An Englishman, Russel the Earl of Bedford

683Is by the French King sold unto his death,

684It may fall out, that I may do him good:

685To save his life, I'le hazard my heart bloud:

686Therefore, kind sir, thanks for your liberal gift,

687I must be gone to aid him, there's no shift.

688Fris. I'le be no hinderer to so good an act,

689Heaven prosper you, in that you go about:

690If Fortune bring you this way back again,

691Pray let me see you: so I take my leave,

693Cro. All good that God doth send, light on your head,

694There's few such men within our Climate bred.

695How say you now, Hodge, is not this good fortune?

696Hod. How say you, I'le tell you what, Master Thomas,

697If all men be of this Gentlemans mind,

698Let's keep our standings upon this Bridge,

699We shall get more here, with begging in one day,

700Then I shall with making Horseshooes in a whole year.

701Crom. No, Hodge, we must be gone unto Bononia,

702There to relieve the noble Earle of Bedford:

703Where if I fail not in my policy,

704I shall deceive their subtle treachery.

705Hod. Nay, I'le follow you, God blesse us from the