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Put fate into his hand? into his will Our lives and fortunes? howle and crye to our owne clay "Be mercifull, ô Prince?" ô, pittied people! Base, base, poore patch men! You dare not heare this; You have sold your eares to slavery; begon and flatter. When ere your politick Prince putts his hooke into my nose Here must he put his Sword too. Bred. We lament ye. Enter the Son. Son. We are undon, Sir.
I was let blood ten times, which has so reduc'd me, that I am but in a very weake situation still. This with my long stay here, has quite exausted my finances, and oblidg'd me to contract 300 Livres, tow of which I am bound to pay in the month of Aprile, and if I am not suplay'd, I am for ever undon. I beg you'l represent this to Grandpapa, upon whose friendship, I allways relay.
Is he come in, do you say? Vand. He is, but followed So slenderly and poore. Leid. We are undon then; He knowes too well what ground he ventures on. Where are the Arminian Soldiers? R. Giles. They stand ith' market place. Leid. Are they well armd? R. Giles. Ready to entertaine him. Leid. Who commaunds the Port? Vand. The English. Leid. Ten towsand devills!
You have sold me, Rogues, betrayd me: fire the Cart, I say, Or heave it into th' Moat. Hunt. We have not men enough. Will ye goe in? the Cuntry will rise presently, And then you shall see, Sir, how wee'll buckle with 'em. Mod. I see I am undon: the hay choakes all, I cannot get beside it. Enter Captaine & Soldiers. Cap. Stir not a foote, For he that do's has mett his preist.
Two years later he served on a Commission appointed to consider how to suppress troubles caused by sturdy beggars, "poore soldiers, cashiered or maimed, and Irish people with petitions, that pretended to be undon by the late rebellion there," the miserable sequel of the civil war.
Away, away; and keepe your pistolls spand still: We may be forced. Mod. I am undon for ever. Enter Orange, Bredero, Vandort. Bred. Is't possible he should be so far tempted To kill himself? Vand. 'Has don it and most desperately, Nor could strong nature stay his hand, his owne Child That slept beside him: which showes him guilty, lords, More then we suspected. Or.
'Troth, I thinck not, Sir. Bar. No, Boy, I warrant thee; they make great soundes, But mark what followes. Prethee, let's be merry, I want it much. Son. I am glad to see you so, Sir. Enter Servant. Bar. I cannot be above two daies from Councell, I know their wants. How now, what haste? Serv. O, Sir, ye are undon; We have lost ye. Bar. Ha! Serv. For ever lost ye. Bar. Why? Bar. Where? how?
I omytt to shewe here howe divers have bene undon by their servauntes which have become renegadoes, of whome by the custome of the contrie their masters can have no manner of recovery, neither call them into justice.
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