CROMWELL.
Yes; here’s those sums of money you must carry;
You go so far as Frankford, do you not?
POST.
I do, sir.
CROMWELL.
Well, prithee make all the hate thou canst,
For there be certain English gentlemen
Are bound for Venice, and my happily want,
And if that you should linger by the way:
But in hope that you’ll make good speed,
There’s two Angels to buy you spurs and wands.
POST.
I thank you, sir; this will add wings indeed.
[Exit Post.]
CROMWELL.
Gold is of power would make an Eagle speed.
[Enter Mistress Banister.]
What gentlewoman is this that grieves so much?
It seems she doth address her self to me.
MISTRESS BANISTER.
God save you, sir, sir; pray, is your name master Cromwell?
CROMWELL.
My name is Thomas Cromwell, gentlewoman.