[SCENE 4.]

Enter Hatto, with three petitioners.

Hat. How now, my friends, what are you?

1. Poore petitioners.

Hat. Stand farther then, the poore is as unpleasing Unto me as the plague.

2. An't please your good Lordship, I am a Merchant, and gladly would convay a thousand quarters of wheate and other graine over the sea; and heres a hundred pounds for a commission.

Hat. Thou art no beggar, thou shalt ha't, my friend; Give me thy money.

3. I, an't please your honour, have a commoditie of good broad cloth, not past two hundred; may I shippe them over? and theres a hundred poundes.

Hat. Thou shalt have leave.

1. Although I seeme a poore petitioner, My Lord, I crave a warrant to transport[188] A hundred Cannons, fiftie Culverings, With some slight armours, halberts, and halfe pikes; And theres as much as any of the rest.

Hat. Away, Cannibal! wouldst thou ship ordnance? What though we send unto the foes our corne To fatten them, and cloth to keepe them warme, Lets not be so forgetfull of our selves As to provide them with knives to cut our throates: So I should arme a thiefe to take my purse. Hast thou no other course of Merchandize? Thou shouldst get gold, twill yeeld thee ten in the hundred On bare exchange, and raise the price with us; Make us for want coyn brasse and passe it currant Untill we find profit to call it in. There are a thousand waies to make thee thrive And Ile allow of all, bee it nere so bad, Excepting guns to batter downe our houses.

1. Letters[189] of Mart I humblie then intreate, To cease on Rovers that doe secure the seas.

Hat. And on our friends too, if thou canst do't cleanlie. Spare none, but passe it very closely; We will be loath to sift thy Piracie, But open eare to heare what they [thou?] complaine. Hast thou a Letter?

1. Ready drawne my Lord. And heres a brace of hundred pounds for you.

Hat. 'Tis very well; I thinke I shall be rich If dayly tenants pay me rent thus fast. Give me your licenses, they shall bee seal'd. About an houre hence, here attend our pleasure.

Omnes. We thanke your Lordship. [Exeunt petiti.

Hat. O vild catterpillers, And yet how necassarie for my turne! I have the Dukes seale for the Citie Meath, With which Ile signe their warrants. This corne and twentie times as much Alreadie covertly convai'd to France, And other bordering Kingdomes neere the sea, Cannot but make a famine in this land; And then the poore, like dogs, will die apace. Ile seeme to pittie them, and give them almes To blind the world; 'tis excellent policie To rid the land of such, by such device. A famine to the poore is like a frost Unto the earth, which kills the paltry wormes That would destroy the harvest of the spring. As for the which, I count them painefull men Worthy to enjoy what they can get: Beggars are trash, and I esteeme them so; Starve, hang, or drowne themselves, I am alive; Loose all the world, so I have wit to thrive. But I must to the Parliment, and then Ile have a clause to beggar some rich men.

[Exit.

Actus Tertius.