_First Sai._ By heavens, well said in honour of our trade! Let's see the proudest scholar steer his course, Or shift his tides, as silly sailors do; Then will we yield them praise, else never none.
_First Mer._ Well spoken, fellow, in thine own behalf. But let us hence: wind tarries none, you wot, And tide and time let slip is hardly got.
_Master._ March to the haven, merchants; I follow you. [_Exeunt_ Merchants.
_Jonas_ [_aside_]. Now doth occasion further my desires; I find companions fit to aid my flight.-- Stay, sir, I pray, and hear a word or two.
_Master._ Say on, good friend, but briefly, if you please; My passengers by this time are aboard.
_Jonas._ Whither pretend[89] you to embark yourselves?
_Master._ To Tharsus, sir, and here in Joppa-haven Our ship is prest[90] and ready to depart.
_Jonas._ May I have passage for my money, then?
_Master._ What not for money? pay ten silverlings,[91] You are a welcome guest, if so you please.
_Jonas_ [_giving money_]. Hold, take thine hire; I follow thee, my friend.
_Master._ Where is your budget? let me bear it, sir.
_Jonas._ Go on in peace; who sail as I do now[92] Put trust in him who succoureth every want. [_Exeunt._
_Oseas._ When prophets, new-inspir'd, presume to force And tie the power of heaven to their conceits; When fear, promotion, pride, or simony, Ambition, subtle craft, their thoughts disguise, Woe to the flock whereas the shepherd's foul! For, lo, the Lord at unawares shall plague The careless guide, because his flocks do stray. The axe already to the tree is set: Beware to tempt the Lord, ye men of art.
_Enter_ ALCON, THRASYBULUS, SAMIA, _and_ CLESIPHON.
_Cles._ Mother, some meat, or else I die for want.
_Samia._ Ah little boy, how glad thy mother would Supply thy wants, but naked need denies! Thy father's slender portion in this world By usury and false deceit is lost: No charity within this city bides; All for themselves, and none to help the poor.
_Cles._ Father, shall Clesiphon have no relief?
_Alc._ Faith, my boy, I must be flat with thee, we must feed upon proverbs now; as "Necessity hath no law," "A churl's feast is better than none at all;" for other remedies have we none, except thy brother Radagon help us.
_Samia._ Is this thy slender care to help our child? Hath nature arm'd thee to no more remorse?[93] Ah, cruel man, unkind and pitiless!-- Come, Clesiphon, my boy, I'll beg for thee.