A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Vi Part 91

DUNSTAN.

If it please your grace to think it good, Dunstan will say, as once Hephaestion did, When Alexander wan rich Macedon;[289]

That whatsoe'er the king himself thought meet, He would in dutiful obedience yield unto.

And so saith Dunstan to your majesty: For many times such simple men bring that to pa.s.s, That wiser heads cannot attain unto; For doubtless he hath some device in hand, Whereby to find such subtle knavery.

KING.

Well, Dunstan, then, as thou hast counsell'd me, I will for once make proof of Honesty.

Sirrah: come hither: In hope you will, as your profession is In honest sort to find deceivers out, And, finding them, to give us notice straight, That we may punish them for their amiss.

We give thee leave to work what means thou may'st, So it be not prejudice to the state nor us.

HONESTY.

My gracious lord, if Honesty offend In anything that he hath promised, And do not, as your grace hath given in charge, Stifle such caterpillars as corrupt the state, Let Honesty receive such punishment, As he deserves that leses to the king.[290]

KING.

Honesty, it is enough; but tell me now What moved thee first to undertake this task To visit us? Speak truth, dissemble not.

HONESTY.

If I should tell your grace, 'twould make you laugh To hear how Honesty was entertain'd.

Poor, lame, and blind, when I came once ash.o.r.e, Lord! how they came in flocks to visit me; The shepherd with his hook, and thrasher with his flail, The very pedlar with his dog, and the tinker with his mail: Then comes a soldier counterfeit, and with him was his jug,[291]

And Will, the whipper of the dogs, had got a bouncing trug; And cogging d.i.c.k was in the crew that swore he came from France: He swore that in the king's defence he lost his arm by chance; And yet in conscience, if I were put to swear, I would be bound to lay a pound, the knave was never there.

And hap'ning 'mongst this company by chance one day, I had no sooner nam'd my name, but they ran all away.

But now I will to my task, and leave your grace; And so I take my conge of your majesty.

[_Exit_.

KING.

Honesty, farewell, and look unto your charge.

PERIN.

My gracious lord, if I might not offend, I would entreat a favour at your hand.

'Tis so, I heard of late, my gracious lord, That my kind father lay at point of death, And if, my lord, I should not visit him, The world, I fear, would find great fault with me.

KING.

Nay, Perin, if your business be of weight, We are content to give you leave to go: Provided this, that you return again, When you have seen your father and your friends.

PERIN.

My gracious lord, I will not stay there long, Only but see my father and return again: Till when, my gracious lord, I take my leave.

[_Exit_.

KING.

Perin, farewell.

And tell me, Dunstan, now we are alone, What dost thou think of beauteous Alfrida, For she is reported to be pa.s.sing fair?

They say she hath a white pit in her chin, That makes her look like to the Queen of Love,[292]

When she was dallying with Endymion.

Believe me, Dunstan, if she be so fair, She will serve our turn to make a concubine: Methinks 'tis good some time to have a love, To sport withal, and pa.s.s away the time.

DUNSTAN.

Ay, my good lord; Dunstan could well allow of it, If so your grace would marry Alfrida.

KING.

What?

Wouldst thou have me marry her I never saw?

Then men would say I doted on a wench: But, Dunstan, I have found a policy, Which must indeed be followed to the full.

_Enter_ ETHENWALD.

Earl Ethenwald, welcome: I thought to send for you.

You must go do a message for us now: 'Tis nothing but to woo a wench, which you Can do. You must not woo her for yourself, But me. Tell her, I sit and pine like Tantalus; And, if you can, strain forth a tear for me.

Tell her she shall be honoured in my love, And bear a child that one day may be king.

Bid her not stand on terms, but send me word, Whether she be resolved to love me, yea or no.

If she say no, tell her I can enforce her love: Or 'tis no matter, though you leave that out, And tell her this--we hear she is as wise, As eloquent and full of oratory, As Thaly[293] was, daughter of Jupiter, Whose speeches was so pleasing 'mong the Greeks, That she was term'd a second Socrates.

For some report, women love to be praised; Then in my cause, I pray thee, love thou Alfrida.

ETHENWALD.

My gracious lord, and Ethenwald shall not fail To show his humble duty to your majesty.

I will, my lord, woo her in your behalf, plead love For you, and strain a sigh to show your pa.s.sions: I will say she is fairer than the dolphin's eye, At whom amaz'd the night-stars stand and gaze.

Then will I praise her chin and cheek, and pretty hand, Long, made like Venus when she us'd the harp, When Mars was revelling in Jove's high house.

Besides, my lord, I will say she hath a pace Much like to Juno in Ida[294] vale, When Argus watch'd the heifer on the mount.

These words, my lord, will make her love, I am sure; If these will not, my lord, I have better far.

KING.

Nay, this is well: now, Ethenwald, be gone, For I shall long to hear of thy return.

ETHENWALD.

My gracious lord, I humbly take my leave.

[_Exit_.

KING.

Ethenwald, farewell. Dunstan, how likest thou this?

What, have I done well in sending Ethenwald?

But in good time, how if he like the maid; Believe me, Dunstan, then my game is marr'd.

DUNSTAN.

I do not think, my gracious lord, My nephew Ethenwald bears that bad mind, For hitherto he hath been termed just, And clept[295] your grace his gracious favourer.

KING.

True, Dunstan; yet have I read that love Hath made the son deceive the father oft.

But, Dunstan, leaving this, come, let's to court.

DUNSTAN.

I will attend upon your majesty.

[_Exeunt_.

_Enter_ BAILIFF _of Hexham, and his four sons; to wit, a_ COURTIER, _a_ PRIEST, _a_ CONEYCATCHER, _and a_ FARMER.

BAILIFF.

My sons, you see how age decays my state, And that my life, like snow before the sun, 'Gins to dissolve into that substance now, From whose enclosure grew my fire of life; The earth I mean, sweet mother of us all, Whom death, authorised by heaven's high power, Shall bring at last, from whence at first I came.

Yet, ere I yield myself to death, my sons, Give ear, and hear what rules I set you down.

And first to thee, my son, that liv'st by wit: I know thou hast so many honest sleights, To shift and cosen smoothly on thy wit, To cog and lie, and brave it with the best, That 'twere but labour lost to counsel thee.

And therefore to the next-- Walter, that seems in show a husbandman-- My son, when that thy master trusts thee most, And thinks thou dealest as truly as himself, Be thou the first to work deceit to him; So by that means thou may'st enrich thyself, And live at pleasure when thy master's dead: And when to market thou art sent with wool, Put sand amongst it, and 'twill make it weigh-- The weight twice double than it did before: The overplus is thine into thy purse-- But now, my son, that keeps the court; Be thou a means to set the peers at strife, And curry favour, for the Commons' love.