Jane. I prithee, come, sweet love, and sit by me. No king that's under heaven I love like thee. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.—The Country.

Enter Sir Humphrey Bowes and Aston, two Justices, Harry Grudgen, Robert Goodfellow, Hadland, and Hobs.

Bowes. Neighbours and friends! the cause that you are called

Concerns the King's most excellent majesty,
Whose right, you know, by his progenitors,
Unto the crown and sovereignty of France,
Is wrongfully detained by the French;
Which to revenge and royally regain,
His highness means to put himself in arms,
And in his princely person to conduct
His warlike troops against the enemy.
But for his coffers are unfurnished,
Through civil discord and intestine war,
Whose bleeding scars our eyes may yet behold,
He prays his faithful, loving subjects' help,
To further this his just, great enterprize.

Hobs. So the'feck and meaning, whereby, as it were, of all your long purgation, Sir Humphrey, is no more, in some respect, but the King wants money, and would have some of his commonty.

Bowes. Tanner, you rightly understand the matter.
Ast. Note this, withal; where his dread majesty,
Our lawful sovereign and most royal king,
Might have exacted or impos'd a tax,

Or borrow'd greater sums than we can spare,
(For all we have is at his dread command)
He doth not so; but mildly doth entreat
Our kind benevolence, what we will give,

With willing minds, towards this mighty charge,

Enter Lord Howard.

Which to receive, his noble counsellor

And kinsman, the Lord Howard, here is come.

How. Now, good Sir Humphrey Bowes and Master

Aston,

Have ye declared the King's most gracious pleasure? Bowes. We have, my lord.

How.

His highness will not force

As loan or tribute, but will take your gift

In grateful part, and recompence your love.

Bowes. To show my love, though money now be scarce, A hundred pound I'll give his majesty.

How. 'Tis well, Sir Humphrey.

Ast. I a hundred marks.

How. Thanks, master Aston; you both show your love. Now ask your neighbours what they will bestow. Bowes. Come, master Hadland, your Benevolence. Had. Oh, good Sir Humphrey, do not rack my purse. You know my state: I lately sold my land.

Ast. Then you have money: let the King have part. Hobs. Ay, do, master Hadland, do. They say ye sold a foul deal of dirty land for fair gold and silver. Let the King have some now, while you have it; for, if ye be forborne a while, all will be spent; for he that cannot keep land, that lies fast, will have much ado to hold money: 'tis slippery ware; 'tis melting ware; 'tis melting ware.

How. Gramercy, tanner!

Bowes. Say, what shall we have?

Had. My forty shillings.

Ast. Robert Goodfellow,

I know you will be liberal to the King.

Good. O, Master Aston! be content, I pray ye:

You know my charge; my household very great;
And my housekeeping holds me very bare;
Three score uprising and downlying, sir,
Spends no small store of victuals in a year;

Two brace of grayhounds, twenty couple of hounds;
And then my jades devour a deal of corn;

My Christmas cost; and then my friends that come,
Amounts to charge; I am Robin Goodfellow,

That welcomes all and keeps a frolick house.

I have no money. Pray ye, pardon me.

How. Here's a plain tanner can teach you how to thrive.

Keep fewer dogs, and then ye may feed men:
Yet feed no idle men; 'tis needless charge:
You that on hounds and hunting-mates will spend,
No doubt but something to your King you'll lend.

Good. My brace of angels: by my troth, that's all. Hobs. Mass, and 'tis well the curs have left so much. I thought they would have eaten up thy house and land ere this.

Bowes. Now, Harry Grudgen.

Grud. What would you have of me? Money, I have none; and I'll sell no stock. Here's old polling, subsidy, fifteen, soldiers and to the poor! And you may have your will, you'll soon shut me out a door.

Hobs. Hear ye, worships! will ye let me answer my neighbour Grudgen? By my halidome, Harry Grudgen! th'art but a grumbling, grudging churl: thou hast two ploughs going, and ne'er a cradle rocking; th'ast a peck of money, go to; turn thee loose; thou'lt go to law with the vicar for a tythe goose, and wilt not spare the King four or five pound.

Grud. Gep, goodman Tanner, are ye so round? your prolicateness has brought your son to the gallows almost. You can be frank of another man's cost.

to twit me with my son:

Hobs. Th'art no honest man, he may outlive thee yet, for aught that he has done: my son's i'th' gaol: is he the first has been there? And thou wert a man, as th'art a beast, I would have thee by the ears. [Weeps.

How. Friend, thou want'st nurture to upbraid a father With a son's fault. We sit not here for this.

What's thy benevolence towards his majesty?

Hobs. His benegligence? hang him, he'll not give a penny willingly.

Grud. I care not much to cast away forty pence.

How. Out, grudging peasant! base, ill-nurtur'd groom!

Is this the love thou bear'st unto the King?
Gentlemen, take notice of the slave;

And if he fault, let him be soundly plagued.

Now, frolick tanner, what wilt thou afford?

Hobs. Twenty old angels and a score of hides; if that be too little, take twenty nobles more. While I have it, my King shall spend of my store.

How. The King shall know thy loving liberal heart. Hobs. Shall he, i'faith? I thank ye heartily: but hear ye, gentlemen, you come from the court?

How. I do.

Hobs. Lord, how does the King? and how does Ned, the King's butler, and Tom, of his Chamber? I am sure ye know them.

How. They do very well.

Hobs. For want of better guests, they were at my house one night.

How. I know they were.

Hobs. They promised me a good turn for kissing my daughter Nell; and now I ha' cazion to try them. My son's in Dybell here, in Caperdochy, i' tha gaol, for peeping into another man's purse; and, outstep the King be

miserable, he's like to totter.

Can that same Ned, the

butler, do any thing with the King?

How. More than myself, or any other lord.

Hobs. A halter, he can! by my troth, ye rejounce my heart to hear it.

How. Come to the Court: I warrant thy son's life: Ned will save that, and do thee greater good.

Hobs. I'll wean Brock, my mare's foal, and come up to the King; and it shall go hard but two fat hens for your pains I will bring.

Bowes. My lord, this fellow gladly now will give Five pounds, so you will pardon his rude speech. How. For five and five I cannot brook the beast. Grud. What gives the tanner? I am as able as he. Ast. He gives ten pound.

Grud. Take twenty then of me.

I pray ye, my lord, forgive my rough-heav'd speech.
I wis, I meant no hurt unto my liege.

Bowes. Let us entreat your lordship's patience.
How. I do, at your request, remit the offence;

So let's depart here's all we have to do.
Ast. 'Tis, for this time and place, my lord.

Sirrah, bring your money.

Hobs. What have you saved now, good man Grudgen, by your hinching and your pinching? not the worth of a black pudding.

[Exeunt.

ACT V.

SCENE I.—Shore's House.

Enter Jane Shore and Mrs. Blague.

Mrs. Bla. Now, mistress Shore, what urgent cause is

that

Which made ye send for me in such great haste?