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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.
Pray thee, leave prating, Simplicity, and tell me what thou hast there.

SIMPLICITY.
Why, 'tis nothing for thee: thou dost not deal with such kind of ware.
Sirrah, there is no deceit in a bag-pudding, is there? nor in a plain
pudding-pie?
But there is deceit, and knavery too, in thy fellow that is called
Usury.[191]
Sirrah, I'll tell thee; I won[192] not tell thee; and yet I'll tell
thee, now I 'member me, too.
Canst tell, or wouldst know whither with this parliament I go?[193]
Faith, even to Suck-Swill, thy fellow Usury, I am sent
With my Lady Love's gown, and Lady Conscience' too, for a quarter's rent.

DISSIMULATION.
Alas! poor Lady Love, art thou driven so low?
Some little pittance on thee I'll bestow.
Hold, Simplicity: carry her three or four ducats from me,
And commend me to her even very heartily.

SIMPLICITY.
Duck-eggs? yes, I'll carry 'em, and 'twere as many as this would hold.

DISSIMULATION.
Tush! thou knowest not what I mean: take this, 'tis gold.

SIMPLICITY.
Mass, 'tis gold indeed: why, wilt thou send away thy gold? hast no
more need?
I think thou art grown plaguy rich with thy dissembling trade.
But I'll carry my lady the gold, for this will make her well apaid.

DISSIMULATION.
And, sirrah, carry Lady Love's gown back again; for my fellow Usury
Shall not have her gown: I am sure so much he will befriend me.

SIMPLICITY.
But what shall Conscience' gown do? shall I carry it back again too?

DISSIMULATION.
Nay, let Conscience' gown and skin to Usury go.
If nobody cared for Conscience more than I,
They would hang her up like bacon in a chimney to dry.

SIMPLICITY.
Faith, I told thee thou caredst not for Conscience nor honesty:
I think, indeed, it will never be the death of thee.
But I'll go conspatch my errand so soon as I can, I tell ye,
For now I ha' gold, I would fain have some good meat in my belly.
[_Exit_.

DISSIMULATION.
Nay, I'll hie me after, that I may send back Lady Love's gown,
For I would not have Love bought quite out of town.
Marry, for Conscience, tut, I care not two straws:
Why I should take care for her, I know no kind of cause.
[_Exit_.

_Enter_ HOSPITALITY.

HOSPITALITY.
O, what shall I say? Usury hath undone me, and now he hates me
to the death,
And seeks by all means possible for to bereave me of breath.
I cannot rest in any place, but he hunts and follows me everywhere,
That I know no place to abide, I live so much in fear.
But, out alas! here comes he that will shorten my days.

_Enter_ USURY.

USURY.
O, have I caught your old grey beard? you be the man whom the people
so praise:
You are a frank gentleman, and full of liberality.
Why, who had all the praise in London or England, but Master Hospitality?
But I'll master you now, I'll hold you a groat.

HOSPITALITY.
What, will you kill me?

USURY.
No; I'll do nothing but cut thy throat.

HOSPITALITY.
O help, help, help for God's sake!

_Enter_ CONSCIENCE, _running apace_.

CONSCIENCE.
What lamentable cry was that I heard one make?

HOSPITALITY.
O Lady Conscience! now or never help me.

CONSCIENCE.
Why, what wilt thou do with him, Usury?

USURY.
What will I do with him? marry, cut his throat, and then no more.

CONSCIENCE.
O, dost thou not consider, that thou shalt dearly answer
For Hospitality, that good member? refrain it therefore.

USURY.
Refrain me no refraining, nor answer me no answering:
The matter is answered well enough in this thing.

CONSCIENCE.
For God's sake, spare him! for country-sake, spare him; for pity-sake,
spare him;
For love-sake, spare him; for Conscience-sake, forbear him!

USURY.
Let country, pity, love, Conscience, and all go in respect of myself,
He shall die. Come, ye feeble wretch, I'll dress ye like an elf.

CONSCIENCE.
But yet, Usury, consider the lamentable cry of the poor:
For lack of Hospitality fatherless children are turned out of door.
Consider again the complaint of the sick, blind, and lame,
That will cry unto the Lord for vengeance on thy head in his name.
Is the fear of God so far from thee that thou hast no feeling at all?
O, repent, Usury! leave Hospitality, and for mercy at the Lord's
hand call.

USURY.
Leave prating, Conscience: thou canst not mollify my heart.
He shall, in spite of thee and all other, feel his deadly smart.
Yet I'll not commit the murder openly,
But hale the villain into a corner, and so kill him secretly.
Come, ye miserable drudge, and receive thy death.

HOSPITALITY.
Help, good lady, help! he will stop my breath.

CONSCIENCE.
Alas! I would help thee, but I have not the power.

HOSPITALITY.
Farewell, Lady Conscience: you shall have Hospitality in London
nor England no more.
[_Hale him in_.[194]

CONSCIENCE.
O help! help, help, some good body!

_Enter_ DISSIMULATION _and_ SIMPLICITY _hastily_.

DISSIMULATION.
Who is that calls for help so lustily?[195]

CONSCIENCE.
Out, alas! thy fellow Usury hath killed Hospitality.

SIMPLICITY.
Now, God's blessing on his heart: why, 'twas time that he was dead:
He was an old churl, with never a good tooth in his head.
And he ne'er kept no good cheer that I could see;
For if one had not come at dinner-time, he should have gone away hungry.
I could never get my belly-full of meat;
He had nothing but beef, bread, and cheese for me to eat.
Now I would have had some pies, or bag-puddings with great lumps of fat;
But, I warrant ye,[196] he did keep my mouth well enough from that.
Faith, and he be dead, he is dead: let him go to the devil, and he will;
Or if he will not go thither, let him even lie there still.
I'll ne'er make wamentation for an old churl,
For he has been a great while, and now 'tis time that he were out
of the worl'.

_Enter_ LUCRE.

LUCRE.
What, Conscience, thou look'st like a poor pigeon, pull'd of late.

CONSCIENCE.
What, Lucre, thou lookest like a whore, full of deadly hate.

LUCRE.
Alas! Lucre, I am sorry for thee, but I cannot weep.[197]

CONSCIENCE.
Alas! Lucre, I am sorry for thee that thou canst no honesty keep:
But such as thou art, such are the[198] attenders on thee,
As appears by thy servant Usury, that hath killed that good member
Hospitality.

SIMPLICITY.
Faith, Hospitality is killed, and hath made his will,
And hath given Dissimulation three trees upon an high hill.

LUCRE.
Come hither, Dissimulation, and hie you hence, so fast as you may,
And help thy fellow Usury to convey himself out of the way:
Further will the justices, if they chance to see him, not to know him,
Or know[ing] him, not by any means to hinder him;
And they shall command thrice so much at my hand.
Go trudge, run; out, away: how? dost thou stand!

DISSIMULATION.
Nay, good lady, send my fellow Simony;
For I have an earnest suit to ye.

LUCRE.
Then, Simony, go, do what I have will'd.

SIMONY.
I run, Madam: your mind shall be fulfilled.
[_Exit_.

CONSCIENCE.
Well, well, Lucre, _Audeo et taceo_: I see and say nothing;
But I fear the plague of God 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 _bonâ fide_ now.
If it please you my petitions 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 nobility,
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, bloody 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 pass, yea or no?
I think I have pull'd your peacock'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 God 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 ass-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 nobody 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 butterflies.

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.

SIMPLICITY.
No, faith, Mistress Conscience, I'll not; for, and I should
sell[205] broom,
The maids would cosen me to competually with their old shoon.
And, too, I cannot work, and you would hang me out of the way;
For when I was a miller, Will did grind the meal, while I did play.
Therefore I'll have as easy an occupation as I had when my father
was alive.
Faith, I'll go even a-begging: why, 'tis a good trade; a man shall be
sure to thrive;
For I am sure my prayers will get bread and cheese, and my singing will
get me drink.
Then shall not I do better than Mistress Conscience? tell me as
you think.
Therefore god Pan in the kitchen, and god Pot in the buttery,
Come and resist me, that I may sing with the more meliosity.
But, sirs, mark my cauled countenance, when I begin.
But yonder is a fellow[206] that gapes to bite me, or else to eat that
which I sing.
Why, thou art a fool; canst thou not keep thy mouth strait together?
And when it comes, snap at it, as my father's dog would do at a liver.
But thou art so greedy,
That thou thinkest to eat it before it comes nigh thee.

SIMPLICITY _sings_.

_Simplicity sings it, and 'sperience doth prove,
No biding in London for Conscience and Love.
The country hath no peer,
Where Conscience comes not once a year;
And Love so welcome to every town,
As wind that blows the houses down.
Sing down adown, down, down, down.
Simplicity sings it, and 'sperience doth prove,
No dwelling in London, no biding in London, for Conscience and Love_.

SIMPLICITY.
Now, sirrah, hast eaten up my song? and ye have, ye shall eat
no more to-day,
For everybody may see your belly is grown bigger with eating up our play.
He has fill'd his belly, but I am never a whit the better,
Therefore I'll go seek some victuals; and 'member, for eating up
my song you shall be my debtor.
[_Exit_ SIMPLICITY.

_Enter_ MERCATORE, _the Merchant, and_ GERONTUS, _a Jew_.

GERONTUS.
But, Signor Mercatore, tell me, did ye serve me well or no,
That having gotten my money would seem the country to forego?
You know I lent you two thousand ducats for three months' space,
And, ere the time came, you got another thousand by flattery and
thy smooth face.
So, when the time came that I should have received my money,
You were not to be found, but was fled out of the country.
Surely, if we that be Jews should deal so one with another,
We should not be trusted again of our own brother;
But many of you Christians make no conscience to falsify your faith,
and break your day.
I should have been paid at three[207] months' end, and now it is
two years you have been away.
Well, I am glad you be come again to Turkey; now I trust I shall
receive the interest of you, so well as the principal.

MERCATORE.
Ah, good Master Geronto! pray heartily, bear a me a little while,
And me shall pay ye all without any deceit or guile:
Me have much business for my pretty knacks to send to England.
Good sir, bear a me for five days, me'll despatch your money
out of hand.[208]

GERONTUS.
Signor Mercatore, I know no reason why because you have dealt
with me so ill:
Sure, you did it not for need, but of set purpose and will;
And, I tell ye,[209] to bear with ye four or five days goes sore
against my mind,
Lest you should steal away, and forget to leave my money behind.

MERCATORE.
Pray heartily, do tink a no such ting, my good friend, a me.
Be my trot' and fait', me pay you all, every penny.

GERONTUS.
Well, I'll take your faith and troth once more, and trust to
your honesty,
In hope that for my long tarrying you will deal well with me.
Tell me what ware you would buy for England, such necessaries
as they lack?[210]

MERCATORE.
O no, lack some pretty fine toy, or some fantastic new knack;
For da gentlewomans in England buy much tings for fantasy.
You pleasure a me, sir, vat me mean a dere buy?

GERONTUS.
I understand you, sir: but keep touch with me, and I'll bring you
to great store,
Such as I perceive you came to this country for;
As musk, amber, sweet powders, fine odours, pleasant perfumes,
and many such toys,
Wherein I perceive consisteth that country gentlewomen's joys.
Besides, I have diamonds, rubies, emerands, sapphires, smaradines,
opals, onacles, jacinths, agates, turquoise, and almost of all
kind of precious stones,
And many mo fit things to suck away money from such green-headed wantons.

MERCATORE.
Faith-a, my good friend, me tank you most heartly alway.
Me shall a content your debt within this two or tree day.

GERONTUS.
Well, look you do keep your promise, and another time you shall
command me.
Come, go we home, where our commodities you may at pleasure see.

[_Exeunt_.

_Enter_ CONSCIENCE, _with brooms at her back, singing as followeth:

New brooms,[211] green brooms, will you buy any?
Come, maidens, come quickly, let me take a penny.

My brooms are not steeped,
But very well-bound:
My brooms be not crooked,
But smooth-cut and round.
I wish it should please you
To buy of my broom,
Then would it well ease me,
If market were done.

Have you any old boots,
Or any old shoon;
Pouch-rings or buskins
To cope for new broom?

If so you have, maidens,
I pray you bring hither,
That you and I friendly
May bargain together.

New brooms, green brooms, will you buy any?
Come, maidens, come quickly, let me take a penny_.

CONSCIENCE _speaketh_.
Thus am I driven to make a virtue of necessity;
And, seeing God almighty will have it so, I embrace it thankfully,
Desiring God to mollify and lessen[212] Usury's hard heart,
That the poor people feel not the like penury and smart.
But Usury is made tolerable amongst Christians, as a necessary thing,
So that, going beyond the limits of our law, they extort, and many
to misery bring.
But if we should follow God's law, we should not receive above that
we lend;
For if we lend for reward, how can we say we are our neighbours' friend?
O, how blessed shall that man be, that lends without abuse,
But thrice accursed shall he be, that greatly covets use;
For he that covets over-much, insatiate is his mind,
So that to perjury and cruelty he wholly is inclin'd:
Wherewith they sore oppress the poor by divers sundry ways,
Which makes them cry unto the Lord to shorten cutthroats' days.
Paul calleth them thieves that doth not give the needy of their store,
And thrice accurs'd are they that take one penny from the poor.
But while I stand reasoning thus, I forget my market clean;
And sith God hath ordained this way, I am to use the mean.

_Sing again.

Have ye any old shoes, or have ye any boots? have ye any buskins,
or will ye buy any broom?
Who bargains or chops with Conscience? What, will no customer come?_

_Enter_ USURY.

USURY.
Who is it that cries brooms? What, Conscience, selling brooms
about the street?

CONSCIENCE.
What, Usury, it is great pity thou art unhanged yet.

USURY.
Believe me, Conscience, it grieves me thou art brought so low.

CONSCIENCE.
Believe me, Usury, it grieves me thou wast not hanged long ago;
For if thou hadst been hanged, before thou slewest Hospitality,
Thou hadst not made me and thousands more to feel like poverty.

_Enter_ LUCRE.

LUCRE.
Methought I heard one cry brooms along the door.

USURY.
Ay, marry, madam; it was Conscience, who seems to be offended
at me very sore.

LUCRE.
Alas, Conscience! art thou become a poor broom-wife?

CONSCIENCE.
Alas, Lucre! wilt thou continue a harlot all [the] days of thy life?

LUCRE.
Alas! I think it is a grief to thee that thou art so poor.

CONSCIENCE.
Alas, Lucre! I think it is no pain to thee, that thou still
playest the whore.

LUCRE.
Well, well, Conscience, that sharp tongue of thine hath not been
thy furtherance:
If thou hadst kept thy tongue, thou hadst kept thy friend, and not
have had such hindrance.
But wottest thou who shall be married tomorrow?
Love with my Dissimulation;
For, I think, to bid the guests they are by this time wellnigh gone;
And having occasion to buy brooms, I care not if I buy them all.

CONSCIENCE.
Then, give me a shilling, and with a goodwill have them you shall.

LUCRE.
Usury, carry in these brooms, and give them to the maid,
For I know of such store she will be well apaid.

[_Exit_ USURY _with the brooms_.

Hold, Conscience; though thy brooms be not worth a quarter so much,
Yet to give thee a piece of gold I do it not grutch;
And if thou wouldst follow my mind, thou shouldst not live in such sort,
But pass thy days with pleasure, store of every kind of sport.

CONSCIENCE.
I think you lead the world in a string, for everybody follows you:
And sith every one doth it, why may not I do it too?
For that I see your free heart and great liberality,
I marvel not that all people are so willing to follow ye.

LUCRE.
Then, sweet soul, mark what I would have thee do for me.
That is, to deck up thy poor cottage handsomely;
And for that purpose I have five thousand crowns in store,
And when it is spent, thou shalt have twice as much more.
But only see thy rooms be neat, when I shall thither resort,
With familiar friends to play, and[213] pass the time in sport;
For the deputy, constable and spiteful neighbours do spy, pry,
and eye about my house,
That I dare not be once merry within, but still mute like a mouse.

CONSCIENCE.
My good Lady Lucre, I will fulfil your mind in every kind of thing,
So that you shall be welcome at all hours, whomsoever you do bring:
And all the dogs in the town shall not bark at your doings, I trow;
For your full pretence and intent I do throughly know,
Even so well as if you had opened the very secrets of your heart,
For which I doubt not but to rest in your favour by my desert.
But here comes your man, Usury.

_Enter_ USURY.

LUCRE.
I'll send him home for the money--Usury, step in,
And bring me the box of all abhomination, that stands in the window:
It is little and round, painted with divers colours, and is pretty
to the show.

USURY.
Madam, is there any superscription thereon?

LUCRE.
Have I not told you the name? for shame; get you gone.

[_Exit_ USURY.]

Well, my wench, I doubt not but our pleasures shall excel,
Seeing thou hast got a corner fit, where few neighbours dwell,
And they be of the poorest sort, which fits our turn so right,
Because they dare not speak against our sports and sweet delight:
And if they should, alas! their words would nought at all be weigh'd,
And for to speak before my face they will be all afraid.

_Enter_ USURY, _with a painted box of ink in his hand_.

USURY.
Madam, I deem this same to be it, so far as I can guess.

LUCRE.
Thou sayest the truth; 'tis it indeed: the outside shows no less,
But, Usury, I think Dissimulation hath not seen you since your
coming home;
Therefore go see him: he will rejoice, when to him you are shown.
It is a busy time with him: help to further him, if you can.

USURY.
You may command me to attend at board to be his man.
[_Exit_ USURY.

_Here let_ LUCRE _open the box, and dip her finger in it,
and spot_ CONSCIENCE' _face, saying as followeth_.

LUCRE.
Hold here, my sweet; and then over to see if any want.
The more I do behold this face, the more my mind doth vaunt.
This face is of favour, these cheeks are reddy and white;
These lips are cherry-red, and full of deep delight:
Quick-rolling eyes, her temples high, and forehead white as snow;
Her eyebrows seemly set in frame, with dimpled chin below.
O, how beauty hath adorned thee with every seemly hue,
In limbs, in looks, with all the rest proportion keeping due.
Sure, I have not seen a finer soul in every kind of part:
I cannot choose but kiss thee with my lips, that love thee
with my heart.

CONSCIENCE.
I have told the crowns, and here are just so many as you to me did say.

LUCRE.
Then, when thou wilt, thou may'st depart, and homewards take thy way.
And I pray thee, make haste in decking of thy room,
That I may find thy lodging fine, when with my friend I come.

CONSCIENCE.
I'll make speed; and where I have with brooms ofttimes been roaming,
I mean henceforth not to be seen, but sit to watch your coming.
[_Exit_ CONSCIENCE.

LUCRE.
O, how joyful may I be that such success do find!
No marvel, for poverty and desire of Lucre do force them follow my mind.
Now may I rejoice in full contentation,
That shall marry Love with Dissimulation:
And I have spotted Conscience with all abhomination.
But I forget myself, for I must to the wedding,
Both vauntingly and flauntingly, although I had no bidding.
[_Exit_ LUCRE.

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