Sailors, and thinking me to be a man of better experience
than any in the ship, asked me what Wood the ship was
made of: they all swore I told them as right as if I had
been acquainted with the Carpenter that made it. At last
we grew near land, and I grew villainous hungry, went
to my bag: the devil a bit there was. The Sailors had
tickled me; yet I cannot blame them: it was a part of
kindness, for I in kindness told them what Wood the ship
was made of, and they in kindness eat up my victuals, as
indeed one good turn asketh another. Well, would I could
find my master Thomas in this Dutch Town; he might put
some English Beer into my belly.

CROMWELL.
What, Hodge, my father's man? by my hand, welcome!
How doth my father? what's the news at home?

HODGE.
Master Thomas, O God, master Thomas, your hand, glove
and all. This is to give you to understanding that your
father is in health, and Alice Downing here hath sent you
a Nutmeg, & Bess Makewater a race of Ginger; my fellow
Will & Tom hath between them sent you a dozen of points,
& good man Tolle of the Goat a pair of mittens; my self
came in person: and this is all the news.

CROMWELL.
Gramarcy, good Hodge, and thou art welcome to me,
But in as ill a time thou comest as may be:
For I am travelling into Italy.