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A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Vol. VI

R >> Robert Dodsley >> A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Vol. VI




DISSIMULATION.
By my honesty, well-rememb'red: I had quite forgot;
'Tis about that a fortnight ago fell out, the matter I wot.

LAWYER.
Tush, sir, I can make black white, and white black again.
Tut, he that will be a lawyer must have a thousand ways to feign:
And many times we lawyers do one befriend another,
And let good matters slip! tut, we agree like brother and brother.
Why, sir, what shall let us to wrest and turn the law as we list,
Seeing we have them printed in the palms of our fist?
Therefore doubt you not, but make bold report,
That I came and will plead their ill-cause in good kind of sort.

FRAUD.
Of troth, how likest thou this fellow, Dissimulation?

DISSIMULATION.
Marry, I like him well: he is a cunning clerk, and one of our profession.
But come, sir, go with us, and we will prefer you.

ARTIFEX.
Good Master Fraud, remember me.

FRAUD.
Leave thy prating: I will, I tell thee.

ARTIFEX.
Good Master Dissimulation, think on me.

DISSIMULATION.
Thou art too importunate and greedy.

FRAUD.
Come after dinner, or some other time, when we are at leisure.

[DISSIMULATION, FRAUD, _and_ LAWYER _exeunt_.

ARTIFEX.
Come after dinner, or some other time! I think so[170] indeed,
For full little do they think of a poor man's need.
These fellows will do nothing for pity and love,
And thrice happy are they that hath no need them to prove.
God he knows the world is grown to such a stay,
That men must use Fraud and Dissimulation too, or beg by the way.
Therefore I'll do as the most doth; the fewest shall laugh me to scorn,
And be a fellow amongst good fellows to hold by St Luke's horn.
[_Exit_.

_Enter_ SIMPLICITY _and_ SINCERITY.

SINCERITY.
Good Cousin Simplicity, do somewhat for me.

SIMPLICITY.
Yes, faith, Cousin Sincerity, I'll do anything for thee.
What wouldst for me to do for thee? canst tell that?

[SINCERITY.]
Mass, I cannot tell what shouldst do for me, except thou wouldst
give me a new hat.

SIMPLICITY.
Alas! I am not able to give thee a new.
Why, I marvel then how thou dost do:
Dost thou get thy living amongst beggars, from door to door?
Indeed, Cousin Sincerity, I had thought thou wast not so poor.

SINCERITY.
Nay, Cousin Simplicity, I got my living hardly, but yet I hope just,
And with good conscience too, although I am restrained from my lust.
But this is it, Cousin Simplicity, I would request you to do for me,
Which is to get Lady Love and Lady Conscience' hand to a letter,
That by their means I may get some benefice, to make me live the better.

SIMPLICITY.
Yes; I'll do so much for thee, cousin; but hast thou any here?

SINCERITY.
Ay, behold they are ready-drawn, if assigned[171] they were.

[_Let_ SIMPLICITY _make as though he read it, and
look quite over; meanwhile let_ CONSCIENCE _enter_.

SIMPLICITY.
Let me see, cousin, for I can read.
Mass, 'tis bravely done: didst thou it indeed?
Mistress Conscience, I have a matter to bequest you to.

CONSCIENCE.
What is't? I doubt not but 'tis some wise thing, if it be for you.

SIMPLICITY.
Marry, my cousin Sincerity wad desire to scribe these papers here,
That he may get some preferment, but I know not where.

CONSCIENCE.
Be these your letters? what would you have me do, and how
shall I call ye?

SINCERITY.
Lady, my name is Sincerity.

CONSCIENCE.
And from whence come ye?

SINCERITY.
I came from Oxford, but in Cambridge I studied late;[172]
Having nothing, thought good, if I could, to make better my state:
But if I had, instead of divinity, the law, astronomy, astrology,
Physiognomy, palmestry, arithmetic, logic, music, physic,
or any such thing,
I had not doubted, then, but to have had some better living.
But divines, that preach the word of God sincerely and truly,
Are in these days little or nothing at all[173] set by.
God grant the good preachers be not taken away for our unthankfulness!
There never was more preaching and less following,
the people live so amiss.
But what is he that may not on the Sabbath-day attend to
hear God's word,
But he will rather run to bowls, sit at the alehouse,
than one hour afford,
Telling a tale of Robin Hood, sitting at cards, playing at
skittles[174], or some other vain thing,
That I fear God's vengeance on our heads it will bring.
God grant amendment! But, Lady Conscience, I pray,
In my behalf unto Lucre do what ye may.

SIMPLICITY.
Mass, my cousin can say his book well: I had not thought it.
He's worthy to have a benefice, and it will hit.

CONSCIENCE.
God be blessed, Sincerity, for the good comfort I have of thee:
I would it lay in us to pleasure such, believe me.
We will do what we can; but _ultra posse non est esse_, you know:
It is Lucre that hath brought us poor souls so low;
For we have sold our house, we are brought so poor,
And fear by her shortly to be shut out of door.
Yet to subscribe our name we will with all our heart:
Perchance for our sakes something she will impart.
Come hither, Simplicity; let me write on thy back.

SIMPLICITY.
Here is the right picture of that fellow that sits in the corner.[175]

_Enter_ HOSPITALITY, _while she is writing_.

HOSPITALITY.
Lady, methinks you are busy.

CONSCIENCE.
I have done, sir. I was setting my hand to a letter to Lucre
for our friend Sincerity.
But I would Lady Love were here too.

HOSPITALITY.
She is at home with me; but, if it please, so much in her behalf
I will do.

CONSCIENCE.
I pray you[176] heartily, and it shall suffice the turn well enou'.
Good Simplicity, once more thy body do bow.

SIMPLICITY.
I think I shall serve[177] to be a washing-block for you. [_Aside_.
I would do it for you, but I am afraid yonder boy will mock me.

HOSPITALITY.
No; I warrant thee.

CONSCIENCE.
Here, take thy letters, Sincerity; and I wish them prosperous
to thee.[178]

SINCERITY.
I yield you most hearty thanks, my good lady.

HOSPITALITY.
Lady Conscience, pleaseth it you to walk home to dinner with me?[179]

CONSCIENCE.
I give you thanks,[180] my good friend Hospitality;
But I pray, sir, have you invited to dinner any stranger?

HOSPITALITY.
No, sure; none but Lady Love, and three or four honest neighbours.

SIMPLICITY.
Mass, my lady is gotten to dinner already:
I believe she rose at ten o'clock, she is so hungry.
What, and I should come to dinner, hast thou any good cheer.

HOSPITALITY.
I have bread and beer, one joint of meat, and welcome, thy best fare.

SIMPLICITY.
Why, art thou call'd Hospitality, and hast no better cheer than that?
I'll tell thee, if thou hast no more meat for so many, they'll
ne'er be fat.
What, if my cousin--nay, I myself alone--to dinner should come,
Where should my lady and the rest dine, for I could eat up every crumb?
Thou art an old miser: dost thou keep no better fare in thy house?
Hast thou no great bag-pudding, nor hog's-face that is called souse?

HOSPITALITY.
My friend, hospitality doth not consist in great fare and banqueting,
But in doing good unto the poor, and to yield them some refreshing;
Therefore, thou and Sincerity will come and take part:
Such as I have I'll give you with a free and willing heart.

[_Exeunt_ HOSPITALITY _and_ CONSCIENCE.

SIMPLICITY.
He speaks well, cousin; let's go to dinner with him.
The old man shall not think but we will pleasure him.
Faith, he might have richer fellows than we to take his part,
But he shall never have better eating fellows, if he would
swelt his heart.
Here be them that will eat with the proudest of them;
I am sure my mother said I could eat so much as five men.
Nay, I have a gift for eating, I tell ye,
For our maids would never believe I put all the meat in my belly.
But I have spied a knave, my Lady Lucre's cogging man.
Give me your letters, cousin; I'll prefer ye, if I can.

_Enter_ DISSIMULATION.

SINCERITY.
Dissimulation! out upon him! he shall be no spokeman for me.

SIMPLICITY.
Why then you are a fool, Cousin Sincerity.
Give me 'em;[181] I tell ye, I know he'll do it for me.

SINCERITY.
Seeing thou wilt have it, here receive it; but yet it grieves my heart
That this dissembling wretch should speak on my part.

SIMPLICITY.
Hear ye, sir, I would request [you] to 'liver this letter
To your good wholesome mistress, Lady Lucre.

DISSIMULATION.
Where hadst thou it, tell me?

SIMPLICITY.
Marry, of my Cousin Sincerity.

DISSIMULATION.
Why, I have nothing to do in it; 'tis not to me thou shouldst come:
I have not to do with Sincerity's matters: 'tis my fellow Simony's room.

SINCERITY.
Thou art akin to the lawyer; thou wilt do nothing without a fee:
But thou, Fraud, Usury, nor yet Simony, shall do nothing for me.
And thou wilt do it, do it; and thou wilt not, choose,
But thee and their dealing I hate and refuse.

DISSIMULATION.
Why, and I am not bound to thee so far as knave go,
And therefore, in despite of thee and thy cousin, there thy letters be.
What, thinkest thou by captious words to make me do it?
Let them deliver your letters that hath a stomach to it.

SIMPLICITY.
Faith, cousin, he's such a testern[182] and proud, 'sembling knave,
That he'll do nothing, 'less some bribery he have.
There's a great many such promoting knaves, that gets their living
With nothing else but facing, lying, swearing, and flattering.
Why, he has a face like a black dog,[183] and blusheth like the
back-side of a chimney.
'Twas not for nothing thy godfathers a cogging name gave thee.

[_Enter_ LADY LUCRE.

But here comes his mistress Lady Lucre:
Now, cousin, I'll 'liver your letter.
Mistress Lady Lucre, here's a letter for ye.

LUCRE.
Hast thou a letter for me?

SIMPLICITY.
Yes, by Saint Mary.
How say you, cousin? she reads your letter:
And you can flatter, perhaps you shall speed better.

SINCERITY.
Thou speakest the truth, Simplicity; for flatterers now-a-days
Live gentlemen-like, and with prating get praise.

LUCRE.
Sir, I have read the tenure of your letter, wherein I find
That at the request of Love and Conscience I should show myself kind
In bestowing some spiritual living on ye, parsonage, or benefice:
It seems it stands greatly in need, as appears by this.
And, trust me, I would do for you; but it lies not in me,
For I have referred all such matters to my servant Simony.
You must speak to him, and if you can get his goodwill,
Then be sure of mine their minds to fulfil.

SINCERITY.
Lady, I shall never get his goodwill, because I want ability,
For he will do nothing, except I bring money.
And if you grant it not, then, 'tis past all doubt,
I shall be never the better, but go quite without.

DISSIMULATION.
Madam, I can tell you what you may give,
Not hurting yourself, whereby he may live,
And without my fellow Simony's consent,
If to follow my mind you are any whit bent.

LUCRE.
Pray thee, what is it? thou knowest, while for their house I am
in bargaining,
And it be never so little, I must seem to do something.

DISSIMULATION.
Why, have you not the parsonage of St Nihil to bestow?
If you give him that, Simony shall never know.

LUCRE.
Indeed, thou sayest true. Draw near, Sincerity:
Lo, for their sakes I will bestow frankly on thee.
I'll give thee the parsonage of Saint Nihil to pleasure them withal,
And such another to it, if thou watch, till it fall.

SIMPLICITY.
My lady axes you, when you will take possession of your house,
and lend the rest of the money.

LUCRE.
What, are they so hasty? belike they spent it merrily.

SIMPLICITY.
Faith, no; for they would eat it, if they could get it, when they
are a-hungry.
But you may be happy, for you have sped well to-day:
[_Speaking to_ SINCERITY.
You may thank God and good company that you came this way.
The parsonage of St Michael's; by'r Lady, if you have nothing else,
You shall be sure of a living, beside a good ring of bells.
Cousin, I'll tell thee what thou shalt do: sell the bells, and make money.

SINCERITY.
Thou mayest well be Simplicity, for thou showest thy folly.
I have a parsonage, but what? of St Nihil; and Nihil is nothing:
Then, where is the church, or any bells for to ring?
Thou understandest her not: she was set for to flout.
I thought, coining in their names, I should go without.
'Tis easy to see that Lucre loves not Love and Conscience;
But God, I trust, will one day yield her just recompense.

SIMPLICITY.
Cousin, you said that something to me you would give,
When you had gotten preferment of Lucre to live,
And I trust you will remember your poor cousin Simplicity:
You know to Lady Conscience and e'rybody I did speak for you.

SINCERITY.
Good Simplicity, hold thy peace: my state is yet nought.
I will help thee, sure, if ever I get ought.
But here comes Sir Nicholas Nemo: to him I will go,
And see if for their sakes he will anything bestow.

_Enter_ SIR NICHOLAS NEMO.

NEMO.
You come from Love and Conscience, as seemeth me here,
My special good friends, whom I account of most dear:
And you are called Sincerity; your state shows the same.
You are welcome to me for their sakes, and for your own name;
And for their sakes you shall see what I will do for you
Without Dissimulation, Fraud, Usury, or Simony;
For they will do nothing without some kind of gain,
Such cankered corruption in their hearts doth remain.
But come in to dinner with me, and when you have din'd,
You shall have--
[_Presently go out_.

SINCERITY.
You shall have--but what? a living that is blown down with the wind.

SIMPLICITY.
Now, cousin, dismember your friends, seeing two livings you have,
One that this man promis'd, and another that Lady Lucre gave.
Mass, you'll be a jolly man, and you had three or four more:
Let's beg apace, cousin, and we shall get great store.
Do thou get some more letters, and I'll get them scribed of
Mistress Love and Conscience,
And we'll go beg livings together; we'll beg no small pence.
How sayest thou, Cousin Sincerity? wut do so mich?
If we can speak fair and 'semble, we shall be plaguy rich.

SINCERITY.
Good Simplicity, content thee: I am never the better for this,
But must of force leave off, for I see how vain it is.
It boots not Sincerity to sue for relief:
So few regard [me,] that to me is a grief.
This was Nicholas Nemo, and No-Man hath no place:
Then how can I speed well in this heavy case?
And no man bid me to dinner, when shall I dine?
Or how shall I find him--where, when, and at what time?
Wherefore the relief I have had, and shall have, is small;
But to speak truth, the relief is nothing at all.
But come, Simplicity, let us go see what may be had.
Sincerity in these days was, sure, born to be sad.

SIMPLICITY.
Come, let's go to dinner, cousin, for the gentleman, I think,
hath almost din'd,
But, and I do get victuals enough, I'll warrant you, I will
not be behind.

SINCERITY.
What, if thou canst not get it then, how wilt thou eat?

SIMPLICITY.
Marry, on this fashion; with both hands at once; ye shall see,
when I get meat.

SINCERITY.
Why, his name was Nemo, and Nemo hath no being.

SIMPLICITY.
I believe, cousin, you be not hungry, that you stand prating.
Faith, I'll go do him a pleasure, because he hath need.
Why, and he will needs have meat eat, a' shall see how I'll feed.
I believe he will not bid me come again to him:
Mass, and he do, a' shall find a fellow that has his eating.

[_Exeunt ambo_.

_Enter_ USURY _and_ CONSCIENCE.

USURY.
Lady Conscience, is there anybody within your house, can you tell?

CONSCIENCE.
There is nobody at all, be ye sure: I know certainly well.

USURY.
You know, when one comes to take possession of any piece of land,
There must not be one within, for against the order of law it doth stand.
Therefore I thought good to ask you; but I pray you think not amiss,
For both you and almost all others knows, that an old custom it is.

CONSCIENCE.
You say truth: take possession, when you please; good leave I render ye.
Doubt you not; there is neither man, woman, nor child, that will or
shall hinder ye.[184]

USURY.
Why, then, I will be bold to enter.
[_Exit_.

CONSCIENCE.
Who is more bold than Usury to venter?
He maketh the matter dangerous, where is no need at all,
But he thinks it not perilous to seek every man's fall.
Both he and Lucre hath so pinch'd us, we know not what to do:
Were it not for Hospitality, we knew not whither to go.
Great is the misery that we poor ladies abide,
And much more is the cruelty of Lucre and Usury beside,
O Conscience, thou art not accounted of; O Love, thou art little set by,
For almost every one true love and pure conscience doth deny:
So hath Lucre crept into the bosom of man, woman and child,
That every one doth practise his dear friend to beguile.
But God grant Hospitality be not by them overprest,
In whom all our stay and chiefest comfort doth rest:
But Usury hates Hospitality, and cannot him abide,
Because he for the poor and comfortless doth provide.
Here he comes that hath undone many an honest man,
And daily seeks to destroy, deface, and bring to ruin, if he can--
Now, sir, have you taken possession, as your dear lady will'd you?

_Enter_ USURY.

USURY.
I have done it, and I think you have received your money.
But this to you: my lady will'd me to bid you provide some other
house out of hand,
For she would not by her will have Love and Conscience to dwell in
her land.
Therefore I would wish you to provide ye;
So ye should save charges, for a less house may serve ye.

CONSCIENCE.
I pray you heartily, let us stay there, and we will be content
To give you ten pound a year, which is the old rent.

USURY.
Ten pound a year! that were a stale jest,
If I should take the old rent to follow your request.
Nay, after forty pound a year you shall have it for a quarter,
And you may think, too, I greatly befriend ye in this matter:
But no longer than for a quarter to you I'll set it,
For perhaps my lady shall sell it, or else to some other will let it.

CONSCIENCE.
Well, sith we are driven to this hard and bitter drift,
We accept it, and are contented to make bare and hard shift.

USURY.
Then, get you gone, and see at a day your rent be ready.

CONSCIENCE.
We must have patience perforce, seeing there is no remedy.
[_Exit_ CONSCIENCE.

USURY.
What a fool was I! it repents me I have let it so reasonable.
I might so well have had after threescore as such a trifle;
For, seeing they were distressed, they would have given largely.
I was a right sot; but I'll be overseen no more, believe me.

_Enter_ MERCATORE.

MERCATORE.
Ah, my good a friend Master Usury! by my trot', you be very well-met.
Me be much beholden unto you for your goodwill; me be in your debt.
But a me take a your part so much against a scald old churl, call'd
Hospitality,
Did speak against you, and says you bring good honest men to beggary.

USURY.
I thank you, sir. Did he speak such evil of me, as you now say?
I doubt not but to reward him for his treachery one day.

MERCATORE.
But, I pray, tell a me how fare a my lady all dis while?

USURY.
Marry, very well,[185] sir; and here she comes, if myself I do
not beguile.

_Enter_ LUCRE.

LUCRE.
What, Signer Mercatore! I have not seen you many a day:
I marvel what is the cause you kept so long away.

MERCATORE.
Shall me say you, Madonna, dat me have had much business for you in hand,
For send away good commodities out of dis little country England:
Me have now sent over brass, copper, pewter, and many oder ting,
And for dat me shall ha for gentlewomans fine trifles, that great
profit will bring.

LUCRE.
I perceive you have been mindful of me, for which I thank ye.
But, Usury, tell me, how have you sped in that you went about?

USURY.
Indifferently, lady, you need not to doubt.
I have taken possession, and because they were destitute,
I have let it for a quarter; my tale to conclude,
Marry, I have a little raised the rent, but it is but forty pound
by the year;
But if it were to let now, I would let it more dear.

LUCRE.
Indeed, 'tis but a trifle; it makes no matter:
I force not greatly, being but for a quarter.

MERCATORE.
Madonna, me tell ye vat you shall do; let dem to stranger,
dat are content
To dwell in a little room, and to pay much rent:
For you know da Frenchmans and Flemings in dis country be many,
So dat they make shift to dwell ten houses in one very gladly;
And be content a for pay fifty or threescore pound a year
For dat which da Englishmans say twenty mark is too dear.

LUCRE.
Why, Signor Mercatore, think you not that I
Have infinite numbers in London that my want doth supply?
Beside in Bristow, Northampton, Norwich, Westchester, Canterbury,
Dover, Sandwich, Eye, Porchmouth, Plymouth, and many mo,
That great rents upon little room do bestow?
Yes, I warrant you; and truly I may thank the strangers for this,
That they have made houses so dear, whereby I live in bliss.
But, Signor Mercatore, dare you to travel undertake,
And go amongst the Moors, Turks and Pagans for my sake?

MERCATORE.
Madonna, me dare go to de Turks, Moors, Pagans, and more too:
What do me care, and me go to da great devil for you?
Command a me, madam, and you shall see plain,
Dat a for your sake me refuse a no pain.

LUCRE.
Then, Signor Mercatore, I am forthwith to send ye,
From hence to search for some new toys in Barbary and in Turkey;
Such trifles as you think will please wantons best,
For you know in this country 'tis their chiefest request.

MERCATORE.
Indeed, de gentlewomans here buy so much vain toys,
Dat we strangers laugh a to tink wherein day have their joys.
Fait', Madonna, me will search all da strange countries me can tell,
But me will have sush tings dat please dese gentlewomans vell.

LUCRE.
Why, then, let us provide things ready to haste you away.

MERCATORE.
A vostro commandamento, Madonna, me obey.
[_Exeunt_.

_Enter_ SIMONY _and_ PETER PLEASEMAN, _like a parson_.[186]

SIMONY.
Now proceed with your tale, and I'll hear thee.

PETER.
And so, sir, as I was about to tell you,
This same Presco and this same Cracko be both my parishioners now;
And, sir, they fell out marvellously together about you:
This same Cracko took your part, and said that the clergy
Was upholden by you, and maintained very worshipfully.
So, sir, Presco he would not grant that in no case,
But said that you did corrupt the clergy, and dishonour that holy place.
Now, sir, I was weary to hear them at such great strife,
For I love to please men, so long as I have life:
Therefore I beseech your mastership to speak to Lady Lucre,
That I may be her chaplain, or else to serve her.

SIMONY.
What is your name?

PETER.
Sir Peter.

SIMONY.
What more?

PETER.
Forsooth, Pleaseman.

SIMONY.
Then, your name is Sir Peter Pleaseman?

PETER.
Ay, forsooth.

SIMONY.
And please-woman too, now and then?

PETER.
You know that _homo_ is indifferent.[187]

SIMONY.
Now, surely, a good scholar in my judgment!
I pray, at what university were ye?

PETER.
Of no university, truly. Marry, I have gone
To school in a college, where I have studied two or three places
of divinity.
And all for Lady Lucre's sake, sir, you may steadfastly believe me.

SIMONY.
Nay. I believe ye. But of what religion are you, can ye tell?

PETER.
Marry, sir, of all religions: I know not myself very well.

SIMONY.
You are a Protestant now, and I think to that you will grant?

PETER.
Indeed I have been a Catholic: marry, now for the most part, a Protestant.
But, and if my service may please her--hark in your ear, sir--
I warrant you my religion shall not offend her.

SIMONY.
You say well; but if I help you to such great preferment,
Would you be willing that for my pain
I shall have yearly half the gain?
For it is reason, you know, that if I help you to a living,
That you should unto me be somewhat beholding.

PETER.
Ay, sir; and reason good; I'll be as your mastership please:
I care not what you do, so I may live at ease.

SIMONY.
Then, this man is answered. Sir Peter Pleaseman, come in with me,
And I'll prefer you straightway to my lady.

PETER.
O sir, I thank ye.
[_Exeunt_.

_Enter_ SIMPLICITY, _with a basket on his arm_.

SIMPLICITY.
You think I am going to market to buy roast meat, do ye not?
I thought so; but you are deceived, for I wot what I wot.
I am neither going to the butcher's to buy veal, mutton, or beef,
But I am going to a bloodsucker; and who is it? faith, Usury, that thief.
Why, sirs, 'twas no marcle[188] he undid my father, that was called
Plain-Dealing,
When he has undone my lady and Conscience too with his usuring.
I'll tell ye, sirs, trust him not, for he'll flatter bonfacion[189]
and sore,
Till he has gotten the baker vantage; then he'll turn you out of door.

_Enter_ DISSIMULATION.

DISSIMULATION.
Simplicity, now of my honesty, very heartily well-met.

SIMPLICITY.
What, Semblation, swear not; for thou swearest by that thou couldst
not get.
Thou have honesty now? thy honesty is quite gone:
Marry, thou hadst honesty at eleven of the clock, and went from you
at noon.
Why, how canst thou have honesty, when it dare not come nigh thee?
I warrant, Semblation, he that has less honesty than thou may defy thee.
Thou hast honesty, sir reverence! come out, dog, where art thou?
Even as much[190] honesty as had my mother's great hoggish sow.
No, faith, thou must put out my eye with honesty, and thou hadst it here:
Hast not left it at the alehouse in gage for a pot of strong beer?

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