A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Vi Part 51

CONSCIENCE.

Well, well, Lucre, _Audeo et taceo_: I see and say nothing; But I fear the plague of G.o.d on thy head it will bring.

DISSIMULATION.

Good lady, grant that love be your waiting-maid.

For I think, being brought so low, she will be well apaid.

LUCRE.

Speakest thou in good earnest, or dost thou but dissemble?

I know not how to have thee, thou art so variable.

DISSIMULATION.

Lady, though my name be Dissimulation, yet I speak _bona fide_ now.

If it please you my pet.i.tions to allow.

_Enter_ SIMONY.

LUCRE.

Stand by: I'll answer thee anon. What news, Simony, Bringest thou of thy fellow Usury?

SIMONY.

Marry, madam, good news; for Usury lies close, Hid in a rich man's house, that will not let him loose, Until they see the matter brought to a good end; For Usury in this country hath many a good friend: And late I saw Hospitality carried to burying.

LUCRE.

I pray thee, tell me who were they that followed him?

SIMONY.

There were many of the clergy, and many of the n.o.bility, And many right worshipful rich citizens, Substantial graziers,[199] and very wealthy farmers: But to see how the poor followed him, it was a wonder; Never yet at any burial I have seen such a number.

LUCRE.

But what say the people of the murder?

SIMONY.

Many are sorry, and say 'tis great pity that he was slain.

But who be they? the poor beggarly people that so complain.

As for the other, they say 'twas a cruel, b.l.o.o.d.y fact, But I perceive none will hinder the murderer for this cruel act.

LUCRE.

'Tis well: I am glad of it. Now, Dissimulation, if you can get Love's good-will, I am contented with all my heart to grant there-until.

DISSIMULATION.

I thank you, good lady, and I doubt not but she With a little entreaty will thereto agree.

SIMPLICITY.

Now I have it in my breeches, and very well can tell, That I and my lady with Mistress Lucre shall dwell; But if I be her serving-fellow, and dwell there, I must learn to cog, lie, foist, and swear; And surely I shall never learn: marry, and 'twere to lie abed all day, I know to that kind of living I should give a good 'ssay:[200]

Or if 'twere to eat one's meat, then I knew what I had to do.

How say ye, sirrah, can I not? I'll be judg'd[201] by you.

LUCRE.

Now to you, little mouse: did I not tell you before, That I should, ere 'twere long, turn you both out of door?

How say you, pretty soul, is't come to pa.s.s, yea or no?

I think I have pull'd your peac.o.c.k's plumes somewhat low.

And yet you be so stout as though you felt no grief; But I know, ere it be long, you will come puling to me for relief.

CONSCIENCE.

Well, Lucre, well: you know pride will have a fall.

What avantageth[202] it thee to win the world, and lose thy soul withal?

Yet better it is to live with little, and keep a conscience clear, Which is to G.o.d a sacrifice, and accounted of most dear.

LUCRE.

Nay, Conscience, and you be bookish, I mean to leave ye; And the cold ground to comfort your feet I bequeath ye; Methink, you being so deeply learned may do well to keep a school.

Why, I have seen so cunning a clerk in time to prove a fool.

[_Exeunt_ LUCRE _and_ SIMONY.

SIMPLICITY.

Sirrah, if thou shouldst marry my lady, thou wouldst keep her brave, For I think now thou art a plaguy rich knave.

DISSIMULATION.

Rich I am, but as for knave, keep [that] to thyself.

Come, give me my lady's gown, thou a.s.s-headed elf.

SIMPLICITY.

Why, I'll go with thee, for I must dwell with my lady.

DISSIMULATION.

Pack hence away, [or] Jack Drum's entertainment:[203] she will none of thee.

[_Exit_.

SIMPLICITY.

This is as my cousin and I went to Master Nemo's house: There was n.o.body to bid a dog drink, or to change a man a louse.

But Lady Conscience--nay, who there?--scratch that name away!

Can she be a lady that is turned out of all her beray?[204]

Do not be call'd more lady, and if you be wise, For everybody will mock you, and say you be not worth two b.u.t.terflies.

CONSCIENCE.

What remedy, Simplicity? I cannot do withal.

But what shall we go do? or whereto shall we fall?

SIMPLICITY.

Why, to our victuals: I know nothing else we have to do?

And mark, if I cannot eat twenty times as much as you.

CONSCIENCE.

If I go lie in an inn, I shall be sore grieved to see The deceit of the ostler, the polling of the tapster, as in most houses of lodging they be.

If in a brewer's house, at the over-plenty of water and the scarceness of malt I should grieve, Whereby to enrich themselves all other with unsavoury thin drink they deceive: If in a tanner's house, with his great deceit in tanning; If in a weaver's house, with his great cosening in weaving.

If in a baker's house, with light bread and very evil working; If in a chandler's, with deceitful weights, false measures, selling for a halfpenny that is scant worth a farthing; And if in an alehouse, with the great resort of poor unthrifts, that with swearing at the cards consume their lives, Having greater delight to spend a shilling that way, than a groat at home to sustain their needy children and wives.

For which I judge it best for me to get some solitary place, Where I may with patience this my heavy cross embrace, And learn to sell[220] broom, whereby to get my living, Using that as a quiet mean to keep myself from begging.-- Wherefore, Simplicity, if thou wilt do the like, Settle thyself to it, and with true labour thy living do seek.

[_Exit_ CONSCIENCE.