Fisc. And good reason, if our interest requires it.

Beam. That leads me to your religion, which is only made up of interest:  At home, you tolerate all worships in them who can pay for it; and abroad, you were lately so civil to the emperor of Pegu, as to do open sacrifice to his idols.

Fisc. Yes, and by the same token, you English were such precise fools as to refuse it.

Beam. For frugality in trading, we confess we cannot compare with you; for our merchants live like noblemen; your gentlemen, if you have any, live like boors.  You traffic for all the rarities of the world, and dare use none of them yourselves; so that, in effect, you are the mill-horses of mankind, that labour only for the wretched provender you eat:  A pot of butter and a pickled herring is all your riches; and, in short, you have a good title to cheat all Europe, because, in the first place, you cozen your own backs and bellies.

Fisc. We may enjoy more whenever we please.

Beam. Your liberty is a grosser cheat than any of the rest; for you are ten times more taxed than any people in Christendom:  You never keep any league with foreign princes; you flatter our kings, and ruin their subjects; you never denied us satisfaction at home for injuries, nor ever gave it us abroad.

Fisc. You must make yourselves more feared, when you expect it.

Beam. And I prophecy that time will come, when some generous monarch of our island will undertake our quarrel, reassume the fishery of our seas, and make them as considerable to the English, as the Indies are to you.

Fisc. Before that comes to pass, you may repent your over-lavish tongue.

Beam. I was no more in earnest than you were.

Jul. Pray let this go no further; my husband has invited both to supper.

Beam. If you please, I’ll fall to before he comes; or, at least, while he is conferring in private with the Fiscal. [Aside to her.

Jul. Their private businesses let them agree; The Dutch for him, the Englishman for me. [Exeunt.

ACT III.  SCENE I.

  Enter PEREZ.

Per. True, the reward proposed is great enough, I want it too; besides, this Englishman has never paid me since, as his lieutenant, I served him once against the Turk at sea; yet he confessed I did my duty well, when twice I cleared our decks; he has long promised me, but what are promises to starving men? this is his house, he may walk out this morning.

  Enter a Page, and another Servant, walking by, not seeing him.

These belong to him; I’ll hide till they are past.

Serv. He sleeps soundly for a man who is to be married when he wakes.

Page. He does well to take his time; for he does not know, when he’s married, whether ever he shall have a sound sleep again.