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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




PLEASURE.
That his punishment may please thee the better, thou shalt punish him
thyself: he shall be bound fast to yon post, and thou shalt be
blindfold, and with thy torch shalt run, as it were, at tilt, charging
thy light against his lips, and so (if thou canst) burn out his tongue,
that it never speak more guile.

SIMPLICITY.
O, _singulariter nominativo_, wise Lord Pleasure: _genitivo_, bind him
to that post: _dativo_, give me my torch: _accusativo_, for I say he's
a cosener: _vocativo_, O, give me room to run at him: _ablativo_, take
and blind me. _Pluraliter per omnes casus_, Laugh all you to see me, in
my choler adust, To burn and to broil that false Fraud to dust.

[_Bind_ FRAUD, _blind_ SIMPLICITY: _turn him thrice about; set his
face towards the contrary post, at which he runs, and all-to burns
it_. DISSIMULATION, _standing behind_ FRAUD, _unbinds him, and while
all the rest behold_ SIMPLICITY, _they two slip away_; PLEASURE,
_missing_ FRAUD, _saith_--

PLEASURE.
Wisely perform'd! but soft, sirs, where is Fraud?
O notable[287] villain! gone, whiles we beheld
The other. Who loos'd him? Who let him slip?
Well, one day he will pay for all. Unblind Simplicity.

SIMPLICITY.
How now! Have I heated his lips? Have I warm'd his nose, and scorched
his face? Let me see: how looks the villain? Have I burned him?

DILIGENCE.
Thou hast done more; for thou hast quite consumed him into nothing.
Look, here is no sign of him; no, not so much as his ashes.

SIMPLICITY.
Very few ashes, if there be any. Ye may see what a hot thing anger is:
I think that the torch did not waste him so much as my wrath. Well, all
London, nay, all England, is beholding to me for putting Fraud out of
this world. I have consumed him and brought him to nothing, and I'll
tread his ashes under my feet, that no more Frauds shall ever spring of
them. But let me see: I shall have much anger; for the tanners will miss
him in their leather, the tailors in their cutting out of garments, the
shoemaker in closing, the tapsters in filling pots, and the very
oystermen to mingle their oysters at Billingsgate: yet it is no matter;
the world is well-rid of such a crafty knave.

PLEASURE.
Well, now thou art satisfied, I wish all here as well contented;
And we, my lords, that praise this happy day,
Fall we on knees, and humbly let us pray.

POMP.
First that from heaven upon our gracious queen
All manner blessings may be multiplied,
That as her reign most prosperous hath been,
During world's length so may it still abide,
And after that with saints be glorified,
Lord! grant her health, heart's-ease, joy and mirth,
And heaven at last, after long life on earth.

POLICY.
Her council wise and noble of this land
Bless and preserve, O Lord! with Thy right hand.

PLEASURE.
On all the rest that in this land do dwell
Chiefly in London, Lord! pour down Thy grace,
Who living in Thy fear, and dying well,
In heaven with angels they may have a place.


FINIS.






A KNACK TO KNOW A KNAVE.



_EDITION.

A most pleasant and merie new Comedie, intituled A Knacke to Knowe a
Knaue. Newlie set foorth, as it hath sundrie tymes bene played by Ed:
Allen and his Companie. With Kemps applauded Merrimentes of the men of
Goteham, in receiuing the King into Goteham. Imprinted at London by
Richard Iones, dwelling at the signe of the Rose and Crowne, nere
Holborne Bridge_, 1594. 4º. Black letter.



A MERRY KNACK TO KNOW A KNAVE.


_Enter KING EDGAR, BISHOP DUNSTAN, and PERIN, a courtier_.

KING.
Dunstan, how highly are we bound to praise
The Eternal God that still provides for us,
And gives us leave to rule in this our land.
Likewise Vespasian, Rome's rich emperor,
Suppressing sin, that daily reigns in us.
First, murther we reward with present death,
And those that do commit felonious crimes
Our laws of England do award them death:
And he that doth despoil a virgin's chastity
Must likewise suffer death by law's decree,
And that decree is irrevocable.
Then, as I am God's vicegerent here on earth,
By God's appointment here to reign and rule,
So must I seek to cut abuses down, that, like
To Hydra's heads, daily grows up, one in another's
Place, and therein makes the land infectious.
Which if with good regard we look not to,
We shall, like Sodom, feel that fiery doom
That God in justice did inflict on them.

DUNSTAN.
Your grace's care herein I much commend,
And England hath just cause to praise the Lord,
That sent so good a king to govern them.
Your life may be a lantern to the state,
By perfect sign of humility.
How blest had Sodom been in sight of God,
If they had had so kind a governor;
They had then undoubtedly escap'd that doom,
That God in justice did inflict on them.
Then, England, kneel upon thy hearty knee,
And praise that God that so provides for thee.
And, virtuous prince, thou Solomon of our age,
Whose years, I hope, shall double Nestor's reign,
And bring a thousand profits to the land,
Myself (dread prince), in token of my love
And dutiful obedience to your grace,
Will study daily, as my duty wills,
To root sins from the flourishing commonwealth,
That Fame, in every angle of the world,
May sound due praise of England's virtuous[288] king.

KING.
Dunstan, live thou, and counsel still the king
To maintain justice, were it on himself,
Rather than, soothing him in his abuse,
To see subversion of his commonwealth.
I tell thee, Dunstan, thou hast pleased the king,
And proved thyself a virtuous councillor:
Thy counsel is to me as North-Star light,
That guides the sailor to his wished port;
For by that star he is so comforted,
That he sails dangerless on dangerous seas,
And in his deepest sadness comforts him.
So Dunstan's knowledge is that star of joy,
That will with help conduct me to my happiness.

HONESTY.
And yet thou art not happy, Edgar,
Because that sins, like swarms, remain in thee.

KING.
Why, 'tis impossible; for I have studied still,
To root abuses from the commonwealth,
That may infect the king or commonalty.
Therefore, base peasant, wilful as thou art,
I tell thee troth, thou hast displeas'd the king.

HONESTY.
Nay, the king hath displeased himself,
In trusting every one that speaks him fair:
For through fair words kings many times are fain
To countenance knaves by their authority.
I will not say your grace doth so--

PERIN.
No, sir; you were not best.

HONESTY.
Why, if I should, I might make good my word,
And find a knave, I fear, before I part.

KING.
Why, what art thou?

HONESTY.
Marry, I go plain, and my name is Honesty:
A friend to your grace, but a foe to flatterers,
And one that hath _a knack to know a knave_.

PERIN.
As how, sir?
By art, or by some foolish gift God hath given you?
You are some physician, or skill'd in phys'ognomy, or in palmestry;
For, I am sure, you can never do it by astronomy,
Because there are no stars to know a knave.

HONESTY.
True, but many an honest man knows a knave to his cost,
And is neither physician, or skill'd physiognomer, palmester,
nor astronomer,
But a plain man of the country, like me,
That knows a knave, if he do but see his cap.

PERIN.
That were pretty, i'faith, to see. Honesty know a knave by his cap:
'Tis more than I can do with all the skill I have.
But tell me, I pray thee, how I should know a knave.

HONESTY.
I believe you well; for offenders never bewray their offences,
Till the law find them, and punish them.
But you would fain tell how to know a knave?
Then thus: the first man you meet in the morning,
If he salute you, draw near him,
And smell to his hat, and after smell to your own;
And, my cap to a noble, if his smell like yours, he is a knave.
I think I spoke with you now!

PERIN.
Base villain, were it not that the king's presence
Doth privilege thy presumption, I would teach you to jest
with your fellows.

KING.
Forbear, Honesty; thou art a good plain fellow,
And I commend thy wit, that hast such ways to know a knave.

HONESTY.
Honesty is plain, my lord, but no good fellow,
For good fellows be purse-takers now-a-days:
And there be so many of such good fellows,
That Honesty may walk the streets without company.
Not that there wants company, but honest company, I mean;
Yet Honesty can clap a knave on the shoulder for all his bravery.

PERIN.
Why, base companion, mean you me?

HONESTY.
Not base, sir, because I was truly begotten,
For Honesty may be suspected, but never detected.
But you think I had a bailiff to my father, as you had,
And that my mother could return a writ of error,
As yours did, when such a gallant as you were gotten.

KING.
Believe me, Perin, he hath touch'd you now;
And I perceive, though Honesty be simple,
Yet many times he speaks truth.

HONESTY.
True, if it please your grace, for honest men will not lie.
But, if your grace vouchsafe to give me leave,
You shall see me find more knaves than one,
If my cunning fail me not; or else say Honesty had no honesty.

KING.
But tell me, Dunstan, how thinkest thou of this motion?
Were it not good, thinkest thou, we gave him leave
To stifle such caterpillars as corrupt the commonwealth?
For many times such simple men as he
Bewray much matter in simplicity.
Then, tell me, Dunstan, what thinkest thou of his motion?

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 pass,
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 ashore,
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 Dick 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 congè 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 passing 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 pass 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 passions:
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.
If any, but in conference, name the king,
Inform his majesty they envy him;
And if the king but move, or speak to thee,
Kneel on both knees, and say, God save your majesty.
If any man be favoured by the king,
Speak thou him fair, although in heart thou envy him,
But who is next?

PRIEST.
That am I, father, that use the word of God,
And live only by the heavenly manna.

BAILIFF.
Who? the Priest? Give ear, my son,
I have a lesson yet in store for thee.
Thou must, my son, make show of holiness;
And blind the world with thy hypocrisy;
And sometime give a penny to the poor,
But let it be in the church or market-place,
That men may praise thy liberality.
Speak against usury, yet forsake no pawns,
So thou may'st gain three shillings in the pound.
Warn thou the world from sin and vile excess,
And now and then speak against drunkenness:
So by this means thou shalt be termed wise,
And with thy pureness blind the people's eyes.
But now, my sons, discourse to me in brief
How you have lived, and how you mean to die.

CONEYCATCHER.
Then, father, thus I live that use my wit:
Unto myself I love still to be wise;
For when I am driven to shift for meat or coin,
Or gay apparel to maintain me brave,
Then do I flaunt it out about the 'Change,
As if I were some landed gentleman;
And, falling in with some rich merchant there,
I take commodities for six months' day:
The bill being made, I must set to my hand;
Then, if I pay not, they may burn the band.[296]

FARMER.
Then, father, hark how I have profited--
Walter, your son that keeps the country--
I have raised the markets and oppress'd the poor,
And made a thousand go from door to door.
And why did I, think you, use this extremity?
Because I would have corn enough to feed the enemy.
Father, you know we have but a while to live,
Then, while we live, let each man shift for one;
For he that cannot make shift in the world,
They say he's unworthy to live in it:
And he that lives must still increase his store,
For he that hath most wealth of all desireth more.

PERIN.
Brethren, you have spoken well, I must needs say;
But now give ear to me, that keeps the court.
Father, I live as Aristippus did,
And use my wits to flatter with the king.
If any in private conference name the king,
I straight inform his grace they envy him.
Did Sinon live, with all his subtlety
He could not tell a flattering tale more cunningly.
Sometime I move the king to be effeminate,
And spend his time with some coy courtesan.
Thus with the king I curry favour still,
Though with my heart I wish him any ill:
And sometime I can counterfeit his hand
And seal, and borrow money of the commonalty;
And thus I live and flaunt it with the best,
And dice and card inferior unto none:
And none dares speak against me in the court,
Because they know the king doth favour me.

PRIEST.
And I, among my brethren and my friends,
Do still instruct 'em with my doctrine,
And Yea and Nay goes through the world with us.
Fie, not an oath we swear for twenty pound:
Brethren, say we, take heed by Adam's fall;
For by his sins we are condemned all.
Thus preach we still unto our brethren,
Though in our heart we never mean the thing:
Thus do we blind the world with holiness,
And so by that are termed pure Precisians.

BAILIFF.
Full well and wisely have you said, my sons,
And I commend you for your forward minds,
That in your lives bewray whose sons ye are.
Here have I been a bailiff threescore years,
And us'd exaction on the dwellers-by;
For if a man were brought before my face
For cosenage, theft, or living on his wit:
For counterfeiting any hand or seals,
The matter heard, the witness brought to me,
I took a bribe, and set the prisoners free:
So by such dealings I have got the wealth,
Which I would have disburs'd among you all,
With this proviso, that you all shall live,
And lead such lives as I have set you down.
Carve to yourselves, and care not what they say,
That bid you fear the fearful judgment-day.
Live to yourselves, while you have time to live:
Get what you can, but see ye nothing give.
But hark, my sons: me thinks I hear a noise,
And ghastly visions make me timorous.
Ah! see, my sons, where death, pale Death, appears,
To summon me before a fearful Judge.
Methinks Revenge stands with an iron whip,
And cries, Repent, or I will punish thee.
My heart is hardened, I cannot repent,
And I am damned to ever-burning fire.
Soul, be thou safe, and body fly to hell. [_He dieth_.

_Enter_ DEVIL, _and carry him away_.

CONEYCATCHER.
Brother, why do you not read to my father?

PRIEST.
Truly, my book of exhortation is
At my place of exercise, and without it
I can do nothing. God's peace be with him!

[_Exeunt_.

_Enter the_ KING, PHILARCHUS _and his_ FATHER, DUNSTAN
_and attendants_.

KING.
Father, say on; for now my leisure serves,
And Edgar gives thee leave to tell thy mind;
For I perceive thine eyes are full of tears,
Which shows that many inward passions trouble thee.
If any here have wrong'd thine aged years,
In keeping that from thee that is thy due,
Name but the man, and, as I am England's king,
Thou shalt have all the favour I can show.

FATHER.
Then, virtuous prince, mirror of courtesy,
Whose judgments, and whose laws for government,
And punishing of every foul abuse,
Is like the judgment of great Alexander,
Third of that name, whom some termed the Severe;
Or like Vespasian, Rome's virtuous governor,
Who, for a blow his son did give a swain,
Did straight command that he should lose his hand.
Then, virtuous Edgar, be Vespasian once,
In giving sentence on a graceless child.
Know, virtuous prince, that in my pride of years,
When lustful pleasure prick'd my wanton mind,
Even in the April of my flourishing time,
I was betroth'd and wedded to a wife,
By whom too soon I had that unkind boy,
Whose disobedience to his aged sire
The Lord will plague with torments worse than death.
This disobedient child, nay, base extravagant,[297]
Whom I with care did nourish to this state,
Puff'd with a pride that upstart courtiers use,
And seeing that I was brought to poverty,
He did refuse to know me for his sire;
And when I challenged him by nature's laws
To yield obedience to his father's age,
He told me straight he took it in great scorn
To be begot by one so base as I.
My age, that ill could brook this sharp reply,
Did with this wand, my lord, reach him a blow;
But he, contrary laws of God and men,
Did strike me such a blow in vild disdain,
That with the stroke I fell to earth again.

KING.
Unkind Philarchus, how hast thou misdone,
In wilful disobedience to thy sire!
Art thou grown proud, because I favoured thee?
Why, I can quickly make thee bare again,
And then, I think, being in thy former state,
Thou wilt remember who thy father was.
And, gentle Sophocles, in good time I recount
Thy ancient saying, not so old as true,
For saith [he], He that hath many children,
Shall never be without some mirth,
Nor die without some sorrow; for if they
Be virtuous, he shall have cause to rejoice,
But if vicious, stubborn, or disobedient,
Ever to live in continual sadness.
I am sorry, Philarchus, that my favours
Have made thee insolent: well, I will see now if
My frowns will make thee penitent.
Now, father, see how Nature 'gins to work,
And how salt tears, like drops of pearly[298] dew,
Falls from his eyes, as sorrowing his amiss.

PHILARCHUS.
Most gracious prince, vouchsafe to hear me speak.
I cannot but confess, most gracious sovereign,
That I have err'd in being obstinate
In wilful disobedience to my sire
Wherein I have wrong'd nature and your majesty.
But I am not the first, whom oversight
Hath made forgetful of a father's love.
But father's love shall never be forgot,
If he but deign to pardon my amiss:
But if your wrath will noways be appeased,
Rip up this breast, where is enclos'd that heart,
That bleeds with grief to think on my amiss.
Ah, father! pardon, sweet father, pardon me.

FATHER.
No, graceless imp, degenerate and unkind,
Thou art no son of mine, but tiger's whelp,
That hast been fost'red by some lion's pap:
But as the tall'st ash is cut down, because
It yields no fruit, and an unprofitable cow,
Yielding no milk, is slaughtered, and the idle drone,
Gathering no honey, is contemned;
So ungrateful children, that
Will yield no natural obedience, must be
Cut off, as unfit to bear the name [of] Christians,
Whose lives digress both from reason and humanity.
But as thou hast dealt unnaturally with me,
So I resolve to pull my heart from thee.
Therefore, dread prince, vouchsafe to pity me,
And grant I may have justice on my son.

KING.
Dunstan, how counsellest thou the king in this?
I promise thee, I am sorry for the youth,
Because in heart I ever wish'd him well.

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