Chapter XXIII: Act VI: Scene Last (7)

[_The Lords bring them to the door, and they go out_ [FRAUD _and_
DISSIMULATION _enter disguised], and_ FRAUD[279] _gives_ POLICY
_a paper, which he reads, and then says_:

POLICY. It seems by this writing, sir, you would serve me. Is your name Skill? whom did you serve last?

FRAUD. An ill master, my lord: I served none but myself.

POLICY. Have ye never served any heretofore?

FRAUD. Yes, divers, my lord, both beyond sea and here. With your patience, my good lord, not offending the same, I think I am your poor kinsman: your lordship, Policy, and I Skill, if it like ye.

POLICY. You say very well, and it is very like. I will answer ye anon.

[DISSIMULATION _gives_ PLEASURE _a paper, which he reads, and says_:

PLEASURE. Is your name Fair Semblance, that wish to serve me?

DISSIMULATION. Please your lordship, Fair Semblance. I am well-seen, though I say it, in sundry languages meet for your lordship, or any noble service, to teach divers tongues and other rare things.

PLEASURE. I like ye very well; stay a while for your answer.

_Enter_ USURY, _and gives a paper to_ POMP,
_which he reads, and saith_:

POMP. Master Usury, I thank ye that ye offer me your service; it seems to me to be for your old mistress' sake, Lady Lucre. Stay but a while; I will answer you with reason.

[_The three Lords go together and whisper, and call_ DILIGENCE.
DILIGENCE _goes out for a marking-iron, and returns_.

FRAUD. How now, my hearts, think ye we shall speed? [_Aside_.

POLICY. Diligence, come hither.

USURY. I cannot tell what you shall, but I am sure I shall. [_Aside_.

DISSIMULATION. I am as like as any of ye both.

USURY. Fraud!

DISSIMULATION. Whist, man; he's Skill. [_Aside_.

USURY. Skill, why dost thou seek to serve Lady Love? What profit will that be?

FRAUD. Tut, hold thee content: I'll serve but a while, and serve mine own turn, and away.

POMP. Master Usury, come hither. You desire to serve me: you have done Lady Lucre good service, you say, but it was against God and Conscience you did it: neither ever in your life did ye anything for Love. Well, to be short, serve me you shall not; and I would I could banish you from London for ever, or keep you close prisoner; but that is not in me; but what is, or may be, that straight you shall see. By Policy's counsel this shall be done. Diligence, bring that iron. Help me, my lords[280].

POLICY. Give me the iron. Pomp, Cousin Skill, help to hold him.

[FRAUD _lays hold on him, but_ DISSIMULATION _slip away_.

Sirrah, Policy gives you this mark, do you see; A little x standing in the midst of a great C, Meaning thereby to let men understand, That you must not take above bare ten pound in the hundred at any hand: And that too much too; and so be packing quietly, And know that London's Pomp is not sustained by Usury, But by well-ventured merchandise and honest industry.

USURY. I would I had never seen ye, if this be your courtesy. [_Exit_ USURY.

POLICY. Now, Cousin Skill, _alias_ Filthy Fraud, No kinsman to Policy, nor friend to the state: Instead of serving me, Diligence, take him to Newgate. Ask me not why, sir: but, Diligence, if he do strive, Raise the street: he's unweaponed, and thou hast a weapon on.-- And now, lords, when ye will, about our affairs let's be gone.

PLEASURE. Agreed; but what's become of Fair-semblance, my man?

POMP. A crafty villain, perceiving how we meant to Usury, slipt away.

_Enter_ SIMPLICITY _in haste, and give the Lords a paper to read_.

SIMPLICITY. All hail, all rain, all frost, and all snow Be to you three Lords of London on a row! Read my supplantation, and my suit ye shall know, Even for God's sake above, and three ladies' sakes below.

FRAUD. Master Diligence, do me a favour: you know I am a gentleman.

DILIGENCE. Step aside, till my lords be gone; I'll do for you what I can. [_Slip aside_.

POMP. What's here, my boy, what's here? Pleasure, this suit is, sure, to you; for it's mad stuff, and I know not what it means.

PLEASURE. Neither do I. Sirrah, your writing is so intricate, that you must speak your mind; otherwise we shall not know your meaning.

POLICY. You sue for three things here, and what be they? tell them.

SIMPLICITY. Cannot you three tell, and the suit to you three? I am glad a simple fellow yet can go beyond you three great Lords of London. Why, my suit, look ye, is such a suit, as you are bound in honour to hear, for it is for the puppet-like[281] wealth. I would have no new orders nor new sciences set up in the city, whereof I am a poor freeman, and please ye, as ye may read in my bill there--Simplicity freeman. But, my lords, I would have three old trades, which are not for the commonwealth, put down.

PLEASURE. And after all this circumstance, sir, what be they?

SIMPLICITY. They be not three what-lack-ye's, as what do ye lack? fine lockram,[282] fine canvas, or fine Holland cloth, or what lack ye? fine ballads, fine sonnets, or what lack ye? a purse, or a glass, or a pair of fine knives? but they be three have-ye-any's, which methinks are neither sciences nor occupations; and if they be trades, they are very malapert trades--and more than reason.

POLICY. As how, sir? name them.

SIMPLICITY. Will you banish them as readily as I can name them? The first is, have ye any old iron, old mail, or old harness?

POMP. And what fault find ye with this?

SIMPLICITY. What fault? I promise ye, a great fault: what have you, or any man else, to do to ask me if I have any old iron? What, if I have, or what, if I have not; why should you be so saucy to ask?

PLEASURE. Why, fool, 'tis for thy good to give thee money for that that might lie and rust by thee.

SIMPLICITY. No, my lord, no; I may not call you fool: it is to mark the houses where such stuff is that, against rebels rise, there is harness and weapon ready for them in such and such houses; and what then? The rusty weapon doth wound past surgery, and kills the queen's good subjects; and the rest of the old trash will make them guns too: so it is good luck to find old iron, but 'tis naught to keep it, and the trade is crafty. And now, my Lord Policy, I speak to you, 'twere well to put it down.

POLICY. Wisely said. Which is your second? Is that as perilous?

SIMPLICITY. Yea, and worse. It is, have ye any ends of gold and silver? This is a perilous trade, covetous, and a 'ticement to murder; for, mark ye, if they that ask this should be evil-given, as Gods forbod, they see who hath this gold and silver: may they not come in the night, break in at their houses, and cut their throats for it? I tell ye, gold and silver hath caused as much mischief to be done as that: down with it.

POMP. They that have it need not show it.

SIMPLICITY. Tush! they need ask no such question: many a man hath delight to show what he hath. The trade is a 'ticing trade; down with it!

POLICY. Now, your third, sir?

SIMPLICITY. That is the craftiest of all, wherein I am disbus'd, for that goes under the colour of Simplicity: have ye any wood to cleave?

PLEASURE. A perilous thing: what hurt is there in this, sir?

SIMPLICITY. O, do you not perceive the subtlety? Why, sir, the woodmongers hire these poor men to go up and down, with their beetles and wedges on their backs, crying, Have ye any wood to cleave? and laugh to see them travel so loaden with wood and iron. Now, sir, if the poor men go two or three days, and are not set a-work (as sometimes they do), the woodmongers pay them, and gain by it, for then know they there's no wood in the city: then raise they the price of billets so high, that the poor can buy none. Now, sir, if these fellows were barr'd from asking whether there were any wood to cleave or not, the woodmongers need not know but that there were wood, and so billets and faggots would be sold all at one rate. Down with this trade: we shall sit a-cold else, my lords.

PLEASURE. I promise you, a wise suit, and done with great discretion.

SIMPLICITY. Yea, is it not? might ye not do well to make me of your council? I believe I could spy more faults in a week than you could mend in a month.

POLICY. Well, for these three faults, the time serves not now to redress.

SIMPLICITY. No, marry; for you three must be married suddenly, and your feast must be dress'd.

POMP. Against which feast repair you to Diligence, and he shall appoint you furniture and money, and a place in the show: till when, farewell.

SIMPLICITY. Farewell, my lords: farewell, my three lords; and remember that I have set each of ye a fault to mend. Well, I'll go seek Master Diligence, that he may give me forty pence against the feast, sir reverence. [_Exit_.

DILIGENCE _and_ FRAUD _step out_[283].

DILIGENCE. What is it, Master Fraud, ye would demand of me?

FRAUD. Sir, this you know, though yourself be a man of good reckoning, yet are ye known an officer unto these three lords, and what discredit it were to me, being a noted man, to pass through the streets with you, being an officer; or if any of my friends should suspect me with you, and dog us, and see me committed to Newgate, I were utterly discredited. Here is a purse, sir, and in it two hundred angels: look, sir; you shall tell them.

DILIGENCE. Here are so indeed. What mean ye by this? I will not take these to let ye escape. [_Deliver_ FRAUD _the purse again_.

FRAUD. I mean not so, sir; nor I will not give half of them to be suffered to escape; for I have done none offence, though it please them to imprison me, and it is but on commandment[284]. I shall not stay long; but I will give you this purse and gold in pawn to be true prisoner, only give me leave to go some other way, and home to my lodging for my boots and other necessaries; for there I'll leave word I am ridden out of town, and with all the haste that possibly I may, I will meet you at Newgate, and give you an angel for your courtesy. There is the purse. [FRAUD _gives him a purse like the other_.

DILIGENCE. I hazard, as you know, my lords' displeasure herein; and yet, to pleasure you, I will venture this once; but, I pray ye, make haste, that I be not shent. I would not for ten angels it were known.

FRAUD. If I tarry above an hour, take that gold for your tarrying. [_Exit_.

DILIGENCE. I do not fear that you'll forfeit so much for so little cause. [_Exit_.

_Enter_ NEMO, _with_ DESIRE, DELIGHT, _and_ DEVOTION,
_the three Lords of Lincoln_.

NEMO. My Lords of Lincoln, Have you such title and such interest To Love, Lucre, and Conscience as you say? Who gave you leave to have access to them? I am their father by adoption: I never knew of love 'twixt them and you; And to perpetual prison they were doom'd, From whence I only might deliver them: Which at the suit of three most matchless lords, Their countrymen, in London bred as they, I have perform'd, and freed them from their bonds; And yet have bound them in their freedom too, To Policy, to Pleasure, and to Pomp, Three Lords of London, whose they are in right, Contracted wives, and done by my consent; And even to-morrow is the marriage-day, Except your coming stay, or break it off. I will go call their lords to answer you: They (under covert-baron[285]) meddle not. [_Exit_.

DESIRE. Fetch them, Lord Nemo: we will here attend.

DELIGHT. Attend we may, but unto little end: The ladies are in hucksters' handling now.

DEVOTION. I would I had my time in praying spent, That I in wooing Conscience did consume.

_Enter the three Lords of London and_ NEMO.

DESIRE. Here come the lords: let's show good countenance, man.

POMP. Yet more ado, before we can enjoy The joys of marriage with our mistresses? Be these the lords that title do pretend? My Lords of Lincoln, so we hear you be, What are your names?

DELIGHT. Devotion, Desire, and Delight.

POMP. Which comes for Lucre?

DESIRE. I Desire.

PLEASURE. Which for Conscience?

DEVOTION. I Devotion.

POLICY. Which for Love?

DELIGHT. I Delight.

POLICY. You shall be answered straight.

PLEASURE. I can answer them quickly. Ye cannot have them, nor ye shall not have them.

POLICY. Stay, Pleasure; soft. My Lord Desire, you Lucre seek: desire of Lucre (be it without reproach to you, my lord) is covetousness, which cannot be separated long from that. Read, my lord. [_Point to the stone of Care_.

DESIRE. In golden letters on this stone is written _Care_.

POLICY. Care with desire of Lucre well agrees; the rather for that London's Lucre may not be separated from London's Pomp: so you may take that stone, if ye will; but the lady you cannot have.

DESIRE. And a stone is a cold comfort, instead of Lucre.

POLICY. Devotion to Conscience (I speak now to you, my lord, that are learned) is sorrow for sin, or (in one word) read-- [_Points to the stone of Remorse_.

DEVOTION. On this sweating-stone in brass is set _Remorse_.

POLICY. And that is your portion; for Conscience is bestowed on London's Pleasure, because London makes o'[286] Conscience what pleasure they use and admit, and what time they bestow therein, and to what end: so, my Lord Devotion, either that or nothing.

DEVOTION. A stone is a hard lot, instead of a lady.

POLICY. My Lord Delight, that do delight in Love, You must I love for making choice of mine. Love is my portion, and that flint is yours.

DELIGHT. Here in lead is written _Charity_: and what of this?

POLICY. If you be (as I doubt not) honest Delight in love, then in the best sense you can have but Charity: if you be (which I suspect not) other Delight in love, you must be noted for concupiscence, and that you will blush to be. Well, Charity is your best: then, that is your portion; for, mark ye, London's Policy joins with London's Love, to show that all our policy is for love of London's commonwealth; and so our love cannot be separate from our policy. You hear this?

DELIGHT. A flint's a hard change for so fair a wife.

POLICY. And thus, lords, Desire of Lucre may take Care; Devotion of Conscience may have Remorse; and Delight of Love may have Charity: other recompense none.

PLEASURE. And so we three leave you three with Care, Remorse, and Charity.

[_Exeunt_.

DESIRE. With Care and Remorse, I swear, ye do leave us; but what Charity I cannot tell.

DEVOTION. Well, yet we must use Charity, though we fail of our desire; and we are answered with such reason as is not to be gainsayed.

DELIGHT. Indeed, my lord, your calling is to persuade to charity; but if I use patience, it shall be perforce.

DEVOTION. Yet being so wisely warn'd, methinks, we should be arm'd, and take this in worth: that the world wonder no further, I will take up my hard burden of Remorse, and be gone. [_Exit_.

DESIRE. It is good to follow examples of good. I'll take this heavy burden of Care, and follow as I may. [_Exit_.

DELIGHT. Because I'll not be singular, I'll frame myself to follow, taking this cold portion of Charity as my share. [_Exit_.

_Enter_ SIMPLICITY _with_ DILIGENCE.

SIMPLICITY. Come on, Master Diligence: I have been seeking ye, as a man should seek a load of hay in a needle's eye.

DILIGENCE. And why hast thou sought me, I pray thee, so earnestly?

SIMPLICITY. Why? For this ointment, these shells, these pictures: do ye not know this _countus mountus cum this da mihi_?

DILIGENCE. What money? Why, do I owe thee any money?

SIMPLICITY. Owe me? Tush, no, man; what do ye talk of owing? Come, and yet I must have some certain _sigillatum_ and _deliberatum in presentia_. Do you not understand, sir? Fortypence and furniture by my Lord Pomp's 'pointment against the wedding day, to be one of the showmakers. I do not say shoemakers, and yet they be honest men.

DILIGENCE. I understand thee now, and thou shalt want neither money nor furniture for that. Sawest thou not Fraud lately?

SIMPLICITY. No, a fox ferret him! for if I could find him, I would make him fast enough for cosening me of ten shillings for certain copper buttons and rings. I thought to have been a haberdasher, and he hath made me worse than a haymaker.

DILIGENCE. I may say to thee in counsel, but I'll have no words of it, he hath overreach'd me too: but if thou spy him first, let me understand; and if I see him first, thou shalt have knowledge; for I'll tell thee--but laugh not--he showed me a purse with a hundred pound in angels, which he would deliver me in pawn to be my true prisoner, because, for his credit, he was loth to go with me through the streets to Newgate. I refused it at first; but at last by his entreaty I was content to take his pawn, and thinking he had given me the right purse of gold, he had another like it, which he gave me with counters, and so went away. I never did see him since; but, mum, no words of it.

SIMPLICITY. No words, quotha! that's a stale jest; would you be cosen'd so?

DILIGENCE. Well, so it is now. Come, follow me for thy furniture and money.

[_Exeunt_.

_Enter_ DISSIMULATION _and_ FRAUD _in caps, and as
the rest must be for the show_.

DISSIMULATION. The coast is clear: come, follow, Fraud, and fear not, for who can decipher us in this disguise? Thus may we shuffle into the show with the rest, and see and not be seen, doing as they do, that are attired like ourselves.

FRAUD. That is, to stand amongst them, and take as they take, torches or anything to furnish the show. Now, if we can pass but this day unseen, let to-morrow shift for itself as it may. I promise thee, Dissimulation, thou art very formal.

DISSIMULATION. Not more than thyself, Fraud. I would thou sawest thy picture.

FRAUD. Picture here, picture there! let us follow our business.

[_Exeunt_.

_Enter a Wench, singing_.

_Strew the fair flowers and herbs that be green,
To grace the gayest wedding that ever was seen.
If London list to look, the streets were ne'er so clean,
Except it was, when best it might, in welcome of our Queen.
Three lovely lords of London shall three London ladies wed:
Strew sweetest flowers upon the stones; perfume the bridal bed.

Strew the fair flowers, &c_.

_Enter first_ DILIGENCE _with a truncheon, then a boy with_ POLICY'S
_lance and shield: then_ POLICY _and_ LOVE, _hand in hand: then_
FRAUD _in a blue gown, red cap, and red sleeves, with_ AMBITION'S
_lance and shield: then a boy with_ POMP'S _lance and shield: then_
POMP _and_ LUCRE, _hand in hand: then_ DISSIMULATION _with_ PRIDE'S
_lance and shield: then a boy with_ PLEASURE'S _lance and shield:
then_ PLEASURE _and_ CONSCIENCE, _hand in hand: then_ SIMPLICITY,
_with_ TYRANNY'S _lance and shield. They all going out_, NEMO
_stays and speaks_.

NEMO. These lords and ladies thus to church are gone, An honoured action to solemnise there; With greater joy will they return anon, Than Caesar did in Rome his laurel wear. Lord Policy hath Love unto his pheer; Lord Pomp hath Lucre to maintain his port; Lord Pleasure Conscience, to direct his sport. Usury is marked to be known; Dissimulation like a shadow fleets, And Simony is out of knowledge grown, And Fraud unfound in London, but by fits. Simplicity with Painful Penury sits; For Hospitality, that was wont to feed him, Was slain long since, and now the poor do need him. That Hospitality was an honest man, But had few friends, alas! if he had any; But Usury, which cut his throat as then, Was succoured and sued for by many. Would Liberality had been by thy side, Then, Hospitality, thou hadst never died. But what mean I, one of the marriage train, To mourn for him will ne'er be had again? His ghost may walk to mock the people rude: Ghosts are but shadows, and do sense delude I talk too long; for, lo, this lovely crew Are coming back, and have performed their due.

[_Return as they went, saving that the blue gowns, that bare
shields, must now bear torches_: SIMPLICITY _going about
spies_ FRAUD, _and falleth on his knees before_ PLEASURE _and_
CONSCIENCE, _saying_--

SIMPLICITY. O Lady Conscience, that art married to Lord Pleasure, Help thy servant, Simplicity, to recover his lost treasure. A boon, my lords, all for Love and Lucre['s] sake; Even as you are true lords, help a false lout to take.

PLEASURE. Thou shalt have help: speak, what is the matter?

SIMPLICITY. See you yon fellow with the torch in his hand? E'en the falsest villain that is in this land. Let him be laid hold on, that he run not away, And then ye shall hear what I have to say.

PLEASURE. Diligence, bring him hither. Good lords and ladies, stay.

SIMPLICITY. O Master Fraud, welcome to the butts: Now I'll have my ten shillings in spite of your guts. The French canker consume ye, you were an old Frenchman! De gol' button, gol' ringa, bugla lace! you cosen'd me then. My lords, I beseech ye, that at Tyburn he may totter, For instead of gold the villain sold me copper.

PLEASURE. Is this true, Master Skill?

FRAUD. It is true in a sort, my lord. I thought to be pleasant with him, being my old acquain'ce, and disguis'd myself like an old French artificer; and having a few copper knacks, I sold them to him, to make sport, for ten shillings, which money I am content to pay him again: so shall he have no loss, though we have made a little sport.

PLEASURE. First, give him an angel before my face. Simplicity, art thou pleased?

SIMPLICITY. Truly I am pleas'd to take a good angel for ten shillings, speciously of such a debtor as Master Fraud; but now I am to be pleas'd otherwise, that is, to see him punished. I promise ye the people love him well, for they would leave work and make half-holiday to see him hanged.

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. 4to. 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 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 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.

DUNSTAN. My gracious lord, if I might counsel you, I would counsel you to judge as he deserves. He that disdains his father in his want, And wilfully will disobey his sire, Deserves, my lord, by God's and nature's laws, To be rewarded with extremest ills: Then, as your grace hath 'stablish'd laws for government, So let offenders feel the penalties.

KING. Ay, Dunstan; now thou speakest as fits a councillor, But not as friend to him whom Edgar loves. Father, what wouldest thou have me do in this? Thou seest thy son is sorry for his fault, And I am sure thou would not wish his death, Because a father's care commands the contrary. Then, gentle father, let me plead for him, And be his pledge for shunning wilful ills.

FATHER. Will Edgar now be found a partial judge, In pleading pardon for a graceless child? Is it not true, That one coal of fire will burn many houses, And one small brack in finest cloth that is, Will both disgrace and blemish the whole piece? So wilful children, spotted with one ill, Are apt to fall to twenty thousand more; And therefore, mighty sovereign, leave to speak, And pass just sentence on Philarchus' life.

PHILARCHUS. My life? dear father, that sentence were too hard: Let me be banish'd from my country's bounds, And live as exil'd in some wilderness, Barr'd from society and sight of men; Or let me hazard fortunes on the seas, In setting me aboard some helmless ship, That either I may split upon some rock, Or else be swallowed in the purple main, Rather than die in presence of my king, Or bring that sorrow to your aged years. If this suffice not, then let me be arm'd, And left alone among ten thousand foes; And if my weapon cannot set me free, Let them be means to take my life from me.

KING. Father, what say you to Philarchus now? Are you content to pardon his amiss? Dunstan, I promise thee, it grieves me much, To hear what piteous moan Philarchus makes: Methinks I see sad sorrow in his face, And his humility argues him penitent. But, father, for I will not be the judge, To doom Philarchus either life or death, Here, take my robes, and judge him as thou wilt.