ACT III.

SCENE I. The principal bridge at Florence.

[Enter Cromwell and Hodge in their shirts, and without Hats.] HODGE. Call ye this seeing of fashions?Marry, would I had stayed at

Putney still.O, Master Thomas, we are spoiled, we are gone.

CROMWELL. Content thee, man, this is but fortune.

HODGE. Fortune; a plague of this Fortune makes me go wetshod; the rogues would not leave me a shoe to my feet.For my hose, they scorned them with their heels; but for my Doublet and Hat, O Lord, they embraced me, and unlaced me, andtook away my clothes, and so disgraced me.

CROMWELL. Well, Hodge, what remedy?What shift shall we make now?

HODGE. Nay, I know not.For begging I am naught, for stealing worse: by my troth, I must even fall to my old trade, to the Hammer and the Horse heels again:but now the worst is, I am not acquainted with the humor of the horses in this country, whether they are not coltish, given much to kicking, or no; for when I have one leg in my hand, if he should up and lay tother on my chops, I were gone:there lay I, there lay Hodge.

CROMWELL. Hodge, I believe thou must work for us both.

HODGE. O, Master Thomas, have not I told you of this? have not I many a time and often said, Tom, or Master Thomas, learn to make a Horse-shoe, it will be your own another day:this was notregarded.Hark you, Thomas, what do you call the fellows that robbed us?

CROMWELL. The Bandetti.

HODGE. The Bandetti, do you call them?I know not what they are called here, but I am sure we call them plain thieves in England.O Thomas, that we were now at Putney, at the ale there.

CROMWELL. Content thee, man; here set up these two bills, And let us keep our standing on the bridge: The fashion of this country is such, If any stranger be oppressed with want, To write the manner of his misery, And such as are disposed to succour him, Will do it.What, hast thou set them up?

HODGE. Aye, they're up; God send some to read them, and not only to read them, but also to look on us; and not altogether to look on us,

[One stands at one end, and one at tother.] But to relieve us.O cold, cold, cold.

[Enter Friskiball, the Merchant, and reads the bills.]

FRISKIBALL. What's here? two Englishmen robbed by the Bandetti! One of them seems to be a gentleman. Tis pity that his fortune was so hard, To fall into the desperate hands of thieves. I'll question him of what estate he is. God save you, sir; are you an Englishman?

CROMWELL. I am, sir, a distress Englishman. FRISKIBALL. And what are you, my friend?

HODGE. Who?I, sir? by my troth, I do not know my self what I am now, but, sir, I was a smith, sir, a poor Farrier of Putney.That's my master, sir, yonder.I was robbed for his sake, sir.

FRISKIBALL. I see you have been met by the Bandetti, And therefore need not ask how you came thus. But, Friskiball, why doost thou question them Of their estate and not relieve their need? Sir, the coin I have about me is not much: There's sixteen Ducats for to clothe your selves, There's sixteen more to buy your diet with, And there's sixteen to pay for your horse hire: Tis all the wealth, you see, my purse possesses, But if you please for to enquire me out, You shall not want for ought that I can do. My name is Friskiball, a Florence Merchant, A man that always loved your nation.

CROMWELL. This unexpected favour at your hands, Which God doth know if ever I shall requite it-- Necessity makes me to take your bounty, And for your gold can yield you naught but thanks. Your charity hath helped me from despair; Your name shall still be in my hearty prayer.

FRISKIBALL. It is not worth such thanks.Come to my house; Your want shall better be relieved then thus.

CROMWELL. I pray, excuse me; this shall well suffice To bear my charges to Bononia, Whereas a noble Earl is much distressed: An Englishman, Russell, the Earl of Bedford, Is by the French King sold unto his death: It may fall out, that I may do him good; To save his life, I'll hazard my heart blood. Therefore, kind sir, thanks for your liberal gift; I must be gone to aide him; there's no shift.

FRISKIBALL. I'll be no hinderer to so good an act. Heaven prosper

you in that you go about! If Fortune bring you this way back again, Pray let me see you:so I take my leave; All good a man can wish, I do bequeath.

[Exit Friskiball.]

CROMWELL. All good that God doth send light on your head; There's few such men within our climate bred. How say you now, Hodge? is not this good fortune?

HODGE. How say you?I'll tell you what, master Thomas; if all men be of this Gentleman's mind, let's keep our standings upon this Bridge:we shall get more here with begging in one day, than I shall with making Horseshoes in awhole year.

CROMWELL. No Hodge, we must begone unto Bononia, There to relieve the noble Earl of Bedford: Where, if I fail not in my policy, I shall deceive their subtle treachery.

HODGE. Nay, I'll follow you.God bless us from the thieving Bandettoes again.

[Exit omnes.]

SCENE II. A room in an hotel.

[Enter Bedford and his Host.]

BEDFORD. Am I betrayed? was Bedford born to die By such base slaves in such a place as this? Have I escaped so many times in France, So many battles have I over passed, And made the French stir when they heard my name; And am I now betrayed unto my death? Some of their hearts' blood first shall pay for it.

HOST. They do desire, my Lord, to speak with you.

BEDFORD. The traitors do desire to have my blood, But by my birth, my honour, and my name, By all my hopes, my life shall cost them dear. Open the door; I'll venture out upon them, And if I must die, then I'll die with honour.

HOST. Alas, my Lord, that is a desperate course; They have begirt you round about the house; Their meaning is to take you prisoner, And so to send your body unto France.

BEDFORD. First shall the Ocean be as dry as sand, Before alive they send me unto France: I'll have my body first bored like a Sieve, And die as Hector, gainst the Mirmidons, Ere France shall boast Bedford's their prisoner. Treacherous France, that, gainst the law of arms, Hath here betrayed thy enemy to death. But be assured, my blood shall be revenged Upon the best lives that remains in France.--

[Enter a Servant.]

Stand back, or else thou run'st upon thy death.

MESSENGER. Pardon, my Lord; I come to tell your honour, That they have hired a Neopolitan, Who by his Oratory hath promised them, Without the shedding of one drop of blood, Into their hands safe to deliver you, And therefore craves none but himself may enter And a poor swain that attends on him.

[Exit servant.]

BEDFORD. A Neopolitan? bid him come in. Were he as cunning in his Eloquence As Cicero, the famous man of Rome,His words would be as chaff against the wind. Sweet tongued Ulysses that made Ajax mad, Were he and his tongue in this speaker's head, Alive he wins me not; then, tis no

conquest dead.

[Enter Cromwell like a Neopolitan, and Hodge with him.] CROMWELL. Sir, are you the master of the house?

HOST. I am, sir.

CROMWELL. By this same token you must leave this place, And leave none but the Earl and I together, And this my Peasant here to tend on us.

HOST. With all my heart.God grant, you do some good. [Exit Host.Cromwell shuts the door.]

BEDFORD. Now, sir, what's you will with me? CROMWELL. Intends your honour not to yield your self?

BEDFORD. No, good man goose, not while my sword doth last. Is this your eloquence for to persuade me?

CROMWELL. My Lord, my eloquence is for to save you. I am not, as you judge, a Neopolitan, But Cromwell, your servant, and an Englishman.

BEDFORD. How?Cromwell? not my Farrier's son? CROMWELL. The same, sir, and am come to succour you.

HODGE. Yes, faith, sir; and I am Hodge, your poor Smith. Many a time and oft have I shoed your Dapper Gray.

BEDFORD. And what avails it me that thou art here?

CROMWELL. It may avail, if you'll be ruled by me. My Lord, you know the men of Mantua And these Bononians are at deadly strife, And they, my Lord, both love and honour you. Could you but get out of the Mantua port, Then were you safe despite of all their force.

BEDFORD. Tut, man, thou talkest of things impossible. Dost thou not see that we are round beset? How, then, is it possible we should escape?

CROMWELL. By force we cannot, but by policy. Put on the apparel here that Hodge doth wear, And give him yours--the States, they know you not, For, as I think, they never saw your face-- And at a watch-word must I call them in, And will desire, that we safe may pass To Mantua, where I'll say my business lies. How doth your Honor like of this devise?

BEDFORD. O wondrous good!But wilt thou venter, Hodge?

HODGE. Will I?-- O noble Lord, I do accord, In anything I can, And do agree, to set thee free, Do fortune what she can.

BEDFORD. Come, then, let's change our apparel straight. CROMWELL. Go, Hodge; make haste, least they chance to call. HODGE. I warrant you I'll fit him with a suit.

[Exit Earl & Hodge.]

CROMWELL. Heavens grant this policy doth take success, And that the Earl may safely scape away. And yet it grieves me for this simple wretch, For fear they should offer him violence: But of two evils, tis best to shun the greatest, And better is it that he lives in thrall, Than such a Noble Earl as he should fall. Their stubborn hearts, it may be, will relent, Since he is gone to whom their hate is bent.-- My Lord, have you dispatched?

[Enter Bedford like the Clown, and Hodge in his cloak and his Hat.] BEDFORD. How doost thou like us, Cromwell? is it well?

CROMWELL. O, my Lord, excellent:Hodge, how doost feel thy self? HODGE. How do I feel my self? why, as a Noble man should do. O,

how I feel honor come creeping on!My Nobility iswonderful melancholy:Is it not most Gentlemen like to be melancholy?

CROMWELL. Yes, Hodge; now go sit down in his study, and takestate upon thee.

HODGE. I warrant you, my Lord; let me alone to take state upon me:but hark you, my Lord, do you feel nothing bite about you?

BEDFORD. No, trust me, Hodge.

HODGE. Aye, they know they want their pasture; it's a strange thing of this vermine, they dare not meddle with Nobility.

CROMWELL. Go, take thy place, Hodge; I'll call them in.-- [Hodge sits in the study, and Cromwell calls in the States.] All is done, enter and if you please.

[Enter the States and Officers, with Halberts.]

GOVERNOUR. What, have you won him? will he yield himself?

CROMWELL. I have, an't please you, and the quiet Earl Doth yield himself to be disposed by you.

GOVERNOUR. Give him the money that we promised him; So let him go, whether it please himself.

CROMWELL. My business, sir, lies unto Mantua, Please you to give

me safe conduct thether.

GOVERNOUR. Go and conduct him to the Mantua Port, And see him safe delivered presently.

[Exit Cromwell and Bedford.]

Go draw the curtains, let us see the Earl.-- O, he is writing; stand apart awhile.

HODGE. Fellow William, I am not as I have been:I went from you a Smith, I write to you as a Lord.I am, at this present writing, among the Polonian Sasiges. I do commend my Lordship to Raphe & to Roger, to Bridget & to Doritie, & so to all the youth of Putney.

GOVERNOUR. Sure, these are the names of English Noblemen, Some of his special friends, to whom he writes: But stay, he doth address himself to sing.

[Here he sings a song.]

My Lord, I am glad you are so frolic and so blithe: Believe me, noble Lord, if you knew all, You'd change your merry vein to sudden sorrow.

HODGE. I change my merry vein? no, thou Bononian, no. I am a Lord--and therefore let me go-- And do defy thee and thy Sasigis; Therefore stand off, and come not near my honor.

GOVERNOUR. My Lord, this jesting cannot serve your turn.

HODGE. Doost think, thou black Bononian beast, That I do flout, do gibe, or jest, No, no, thou Beer-pot, know that I, A noble Earl, a Lord pardie--

[A Trumpet sounds.]

GOVERNOUR. What means this Trumpet's sound? [Enter a Messenger.]

CITIZEN. One come from the States of Mantua.

GOVERNOUR. What would you with us? speak, thou man of Mantua.

MESSENGER. Men of Bononia, this my message is: To let you know the Noble Earl of Bedford Is safe within the town of Mantua, And wills you send the peasant that you have, Who hath deceived your expectation; Or else the States of Mantua have vowed They will recall the truce that they have made, And not a man shall stir from forth your town, That shall return, unless you send him back.

GOVERNOUR. O this misfortune, how it mads my heart! The Neopolitan hath beguiled us all. Hence with this fool! what shall we do with him, The Earl being gone? a plague upon it all.

HODGE. No, I'll assure you, I am no Earl, but a smith, sir; One Hodge, a smith at Putney, sir; One that hath gulled you, that hath bored you, sir.

GOVERNOUR. Away with him! take hence the fool you came for. HODGE. Aye, sir, and I'll leave the greater fool with you.

MESSENGER. Farewell, Bononians.Come, friend, a long with me. HODGE. My friend, afore; my Lordship will follow thee.

[Exit.]

GOVERNOUR. Well, Mantua, since by thee the Earl is lost, Within few days I hope to see thee crossed.

[Exit omnes.] [Enter Chorus.]

CHORUS. Thus far you see how Cromwell's fortune passed. The Earl of Bedford, being safe in Mantua, Desires Cromwell's company into France, To make requital for his courtesy: But Cromwell doth deny the Earl his suit, And tells him that those parts he meant to see, he had not yet set footing on the land, And so directly takes his way to Spain: The Earl to France, and so they both do part. Now let your thoughts, as swift as is the wind, Skip some few years, that Cromwell spent in travel, And now imagine him to be in England, Servant unto the master of the Rules, Where in short time he there began to flourish. An hour shall show you what few years did cherish.

[Exit.]

SCENE III. London. A room in Sir Christopher

Hales's house.

[The Music plays, they bring out the banquet.Enter Sir Christopher Hales, and Cromwell, and two servants.]

HALES. Come, sirs, be careful of your master's credit, And as our bounty now exceeds the figure Of common entertainment:so do you With looks as free as is your master's soul, Give formal welcome to the thronged tables, That shall receive the Cardinal's followers And the attendants of the Lord Chancellor. But all my care, Cromwell, depends on thee. Thou art a man differing from vulgar form, And by how much thy spirit is ranked bove these In rules of Art, by so much it shines brighter By travel whose observance pleads his merit, In a most learned, yet unaffecting spirit, Good Cromwell, cast an eye of fair regard Bout all my house, and what this ruder flesh, Through ignorance, or wine, do miscreate, Salve thou with courtesy:if welcome want, Full bowls and ample banquets will seem scant.

CROMWELL. Sir, what soever lies in me, Assure you, I will shew my utmost duty.

[Exit Cromwell.]

HALES. About it, then; the Lords will straight be here.-- Cromwell, thou hast those parts would rather suit The service of the state, than of my house. I look upon thee with a loving eye, That one day will prefer thy destiny.

[Enter Messenger.]

MESSENGER. Sir, the Lords be at hand.

HALES. They are welcome; bid Cromwell straight attend us, And look you all things be in perfect readiness.

[The Music plays.Enter Cardinal Wolsey, Sir Thomas More and Gardiner.]

WOLSEY. O, sir Christopher, You are too liberal.What, a banket to?

HALES. My Lords, if words could show the ample welcome, That my free heart affords you, I could then Become a prater, but I now must deal

Like a feast Politician with your Lordships; Defer your welcome till the banket end, That it may then salve our defect of fair: Yet Welcome now and all that tend on you.

WOLSEY. Thanks to the kind master of the Rules.

Come and sit down; sit down, sir Thomas More. Tis strange, how that we and the Spaniard differ. Their dinner is our banquet after dinner, And they are men of active disposition. This I gather:that by their sparing meat Their body is more fitter for the wars, And if that famine chance to pinch their maws, Being used to fast it breeds less pain.

HALES. Fill me some Wine:I'll answer Cardinal Wolsey. My Lord, we English are of more freer souls Than hungerstarved and ill complexioned spaniards. They that are rich in Spain spare belly food, To deck their backs with an Italian hood, And Silks of Civil:And the poorest Snake, That feeds on Lemons, Pilchers, and near heated His pallet with sweet flesh, will bear a case More fat and gallant than his starved face. Pride, the Inquisition, and this belly evil, Are, in my judgement, Spain's three headed devil.

MORE. Indeed it is a plague unto their nation, Who stagger after in blind imitation.

HALES. My Lords, with welcome, I present your Lordships A solemn health.

MORE. I love health well, but when as healths do bring Pain to the head and bodies sufeiting, Then cease I healths.-- Nay, spill not, friend, for though the drops be small, Yet have they force, to force men to the wall.

WOLSEY. Sir Christopher, is that your man?

HALES. And like your grace; he is a Scholar and A Lingest, one that hath travelled many parts Of Christendom, my Lord.

WOLSEY. My friend, come nearer; have you been a traveller? CROMWELL. My Lord, I have added to my knowledge the low

Countries, France, Spain, Germany, and Italy: And though small gain of profit I did find, Yet did it please my eye, content my mind.

WOLSEY. What do you think of the several states And princes' Courts as you have travelled?

CROMWELL. My Lord, no Court with England may compare, Neither for state nor civil government: Lust dwells in France, in Italy, and

Spain, From the poor peasant to the Prince's train, In Germany and Holland riot serves, And he that most can drink, most he deserves: England I praise not, for I here was borne, But that she laugheth the others unto scorn.WOLSEY. My Lord, there dwells within that spirit More than can be discerned by outward eye. Sir Christopher, will you part with your man?

HALES. I have sought to profer him to your Lordship, And now I see he hath prefered himself.

WOLSEY. What is thy name? CROMWELL. Cromwell, my Lord.

WOLSEY. Then, Cromwell, here we make thee Solicitor of our causes, and nearest next our self.Gardiner give you kind welcome to the man.

[Gardiner embraces him.]

MORE. My Lord, you are a royal Winer, Have got a man besides your bounteous dinner. Well, Knight, pray we come no more: If we come often, thou maist shut thy door.

WOLSEY. Sir Christopher, hadst thou given me half thy lands, Thou couldest not have pleased me so much as with This man of thine.My infant thoughts do spell: Shortly his fortune shall be lifted higher; True industry doth kindle honour's fire. And so, kind master of the Rules, farewell.

HALES. Cromwell, farewell.

CROMWELL. Cromwell takes his leave of you, That near will leave to love and honour you.

[Exit omnes.The Music plays, as they go in.]