A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume I Part 69

'POTHECARY. If I have never the more for thee, Then be thy relics no riches to me; Nor to thyself, except they be More beneficial than I can see.

Richer is one box of this triacle,[476]

Than all thy relics, that do no miracle.

If thou hadst prayed but half so much to me, As I have prayed to thy relics and thee, Nothing concerning mine occupation, But straight should have wrought one[477] operation: And as in value I pa.s.s you an ace, So here lieth much richness in little s.p.a.ce.

I have a box of rhubarb here, Which is as dainty as it is dear.

So[478] help me G.o.d and halidom, Of this I would not give a dram To the best friend I have in England's ground, Though he would give me twenty pound.

For though the stomach do it abhor, It purgeth you clean from the choler; And maketh your stomach sore to walter, That ye shall never come to the halter.

PEDLAR. Then is that medicine a sovereign thing To preserve a man from hanging.

'POTHECARY. If ye will taste but this crumb that ye see, If ever ye be hanged, never trust me.

Here have I _diapompholicus_, A special ointment, as doctors discuss, For a fistula or for a canker: This ointment is even shot-anchor;[479]

For this medicine[480] helpeth one and other, Or bringeth them in case that they need no other.

Here is a _syrapus de Byzansis_, A little thing is enough of this; For even the weight of one scruple Shall[481] make you as strong as a cripple.

Here are others, as _diosfialios, Diagalanga_ and _sticados, Blanka, manna, diospoliticon_, Mercury sublime and _metridaticon_, Pellitory and a.r.s.efet.i.ta; Ca.s.sy and _colloquint.i.ta_.

These be[482] the things that break all strife Between man's sickness and his life.

From all pain these shall you deliver, And set you even at rest for ever.

Here is a medicine no mo like the same, Which commonly is called thus by name _Alikakabus_ or _Alkakengy_, A goodly thing for dogs that be[483] mangy.

Such be these medicines, that I can Help a dog as well as a man.

Not one thing here particularly, But worketh universally; For it doth me as much good, when I sell it, As all the buyers that taste it or smell it.

Now since my medicines be so special, And in one operation so general, And ready to work whensoever they shall, So that in riches I am princ.i.p.al; If any reward may entreat ye, I beseech your maship be good to[484] me, And ye shall have a box of marmalade, So fine that you may dig it with a spade.

PEDLAR. Sir, I thank you; but your reward Is not the thing that I regard: I must and will be indifferent; Wherefore proceed in your intent.

'POTHECARY. Now if I wist this wish no sin, I would to G.o.d I might begin.

'PARDONER. I am content that thou lie first.

PALMER. Even so am I; now[485] say thy worst.

Now let us hear, of all thy lies, The greatest lie thou mayst devise.

And in the fewest words thou can.

'POTHECARY. Forsooth, ye be[486] an honest man.

PEDLAR. There said ye much, but yet no lie.

PARDONER. Now lie ye both, by Our Lady.

Thou liest in boast of his honesty, And he hath lied in affirming thee.

'POTHECARY. If we both he, and ye say true, Then of these lies your part adieu!

And if ye win, make none avaunt, For you are sure of one ill servant.

You may perceive by the words he gave, He taketh your maship[487] but for knave.

But who told truth[488] or lied indeed, That will I know, ere[489] we proceed.

Sir, after that I first began To praise you for an honest man, When ye affirmed it for no lie:[490]

Now, by your[491] faith, speak even truly; Thought ye your affirmation true?

PALMER. Yea, marry, for I would ye knew, I think myself an honest man.

'POTHECARY. What thought ye in the contrary then?

PARDONER. In that I said the contrary, I think from truth I did not vary.

'POTHECARY. And what of my words?

PARDONER. I thought ye lied.

'POTHECARY. And so thought I, by G.o.d that died.

Now have you twain each for himself laid, That none[492] hath lied, but both true said: And of us twain none hath denied, But both affirmed that I have lied.

Now since both ye[493] the truth confess, How that I lied, do bear witness, That twain of us may soon agree,[494]

And that the lier the winner must be, Who could provide such evidence, As I have done in this pretence?

Me-thinketh this matter sufficient To cause you to give judgment; And to give me the mastery, For ye perceive these knaves cannot lie.

PALMER. Though nother[495] of us yet had lied, Yet what we can do is untried; For as yet we have devised nothing, But answered you and given you hearing.

PEDLAR. Therefore I have devised one way, Whereby all three your minds may say, For each of you one tale shall tell, And which of you telleth most marvel, And most unlikest[496] to be true, Shall most prevail, whatever ensue.

'POTHECARY. If ye be set on marvelling, Then shall ye hear a marvellous thing.

And though, indeed, all be not true, Yet sure the most part shall be new.

I did a cure no longer ago, But in _anno domini millesimo_, On a woman young and so fair, That never have I seen a gayer.

G.o.d save all women of[497] that likeness.

This wanton had the falling sickness, Which by descent came lineally, For her mother had it naturally: Wherefore this woman to recure, It was more hard, ye may be sure.

But though I boast my craft is such, That in such things I can do much: How oft she fell were much to report; But her head so giddy, and her belly so short, That, with the twinkling of an eye, Down would she fall even by and by.

But ere[498] she would arise again, I showed much practice much to my pain.

For the tallest man within this town Could[499] not with ease have broken her swoon.

Although for life I did not doubt her, Yet I did take more pains[500] about her, Than I would take with my own sister.

Sir, at the last I gave her a glister: I thrust a tampion in her tewell,[501]

And bade her keep it for a jewel; But I knew there[502] it was too heavy to carry, That I sure was it would not tarry: For where gunpowder is once fired, The tampion will no lenger be hired: Which was well seen in time of this chance, For when I had charged this ordnance, Suddenly, as it had thundered, Even at a clap loosed her bombard.[503]

Now mark, for here beginneth the revel: This tampion flew ten long mile level, To a fair castle of lime and stone, For strength I know not such a one, Which stood upon a hill full high, At foot whereof a river ran by, So deep, till chance had it forbidden, Well might the Regent[504] there have ridden.

But when this tampion at this[505] castle did light, It put the castle so fair to flight, That down they came each upon other, No stone left standing, by G.o.d's mother!

But rolled down so fast the hill In such a number, and so did fill From bottom to brim, from sh.o.r.e to sh.o.r.e, This foresaid river so deep before, That who list now to walk thereto, May wade it over and wet no shoe.

So was this castle laid wide open, That every man might see the token.

But in a good hour may these[506] words be spoken After the tampion on the walls was wroken, And piece by piece in pieces broken.

And she delivered with such violence Of all her inconvenience, I left her in good health and l.u.s.t; And so she doth continue, I trust.

PEDLAR. Sir, in your cure I can nothing tell; But to your[507] purpose ye have said well.

PARDONER. Well, sir, then mark what I can say.

I have been a pardoner many a day, And done greater[508] cures ghostly Than ever he did bodily.

Namely this one, which ye shall hear, Of one departed within this seven year, A friend of mine, and likewise I To her again was as friendly: Who fell so sick so suddenly, That dead she was even by and by, And never spake with priest nor clerk, Nor had no whit of this holy work; For I was thence, it could not be, Yet heard I say she asked for me.

But when I bethought me how this chanced, And that I have to heaven avanced So many souls to me but strangers, And could not keep my friend from dangers, But she to die so dangerously, For her soul-health especially; That was the thing that grieved me so, That nothing could release my woe, Till I had tried even out of hand, In what estate her soul did stand.

For which trial, short tale to make, I took this journey for her sake.[509]

Give ear, for here beginneth the story: From hence I went to Purgatory, And took with me this gear in my fist, Whereby I may do there what I list.

I knocked and was let in quickly: But, Lord, how low the souls made curtesy; And I to every soul again Did give a beck[510] them to retain, And asked them this question then, If that the soul of such a woman Did late among them there appear?

Whereto they said, she came not here.

Then feared I much it was not well; Alas, thought I, she is in h.e.l.l; For with her life I was so acquainted, That sure I thought she was not sainted.

With this it chanced me to sneeze; Christ help, quoth a soul that lay for his fees.

Those words, quoth I, thou shalt not lese; Then with these pardons of all degrees I paid his toll and set him so quit, That straight to heaven he took his flight, And I from thence to h.e.l.l that night, To help this woman, if I might; Not as who saith by authority, But by the way of entreaty.

And first to the devil that kept the gate I came, and spake after this rate: All hail, sir devil, and made low curtesy: Welcome, quoth he thus smilingly.[511]

He knew me well, and I at last Remembered him since long time past: For, as good hap would have it chance, This devil and I were of old acquaintance; For oft, in the play of Corpus Christi,[512]