Steph. How? cast away? where?
Brew. 'Tis impossible; they rid at Dover safe
When he outbought my full share in the fraught,
And paid me down near thirty thousand pounds
In wares and money.
George. Which, had he not done, you had lost your venture.
By Master Foster's own appointment, sir, they weighed
Their anchors up, and so to come for London;
But by a merciless storm they all were swallowed,
Even in the Thames's mouth: yet the men were sav'd,
But all the goods were lost.
Rob. O my poor father! This loss will break his back.
Steph. Ha! what is that to you? If in my favour
You'll sit warm, then bury all love to him,
Nay, duty; hear you, sir? What! shedd'st thou tears
For him that had no care to see thy heart
Drop blood? He was unnatural, and heaven
Hath justly now rewarded him.
Brew. 'Tis a most strange fate!
He needs would buy my part at any rate;
And now all's lost.
Steph. Greedy desire he swallowed,
And now is swallowed: 'tis but his hire,
And I'll not pity it no more than he
In his abundance did my misery.
Wife. I grieve for my poor gossip, his good wife;
She never met good fortune all her life,
And this will break her heart-strings:
In good sooth, I'll go and comfort her.
Steph. In good sooth, you shall not;
Nor him, nor her, at this time, gentle wife;
He scorn'd me in his height: now being poor,
If that he needs my help, he knows my door.
Sir, we'll for this time leave you; at fitter leisure
We'll have this marriage talk'd of.
Brew. At your own good pleasure.