Читать бесплатно онлайн книгу  Recently Recovered “Lost” Tudor Plays with some others

автор John Stephen Farmer

Early English Dramatists

"LOST" TUDOR
PLAYS WITH
SOME OTHERS

[Pg ii] [Pg iii]

Early English Dramatists
Recently Recovered
"LOST" TUDOR PLAYS
WITH SOME OTHERS
COMPRISING
Mankind—Nature—Wit and Science Respublica—Wealth and Health Impatient Poverty—John the Evangelist Note-Book and Word-List

EDITED BY

JOHN S. FARMER

This edition, published in 1966, is a facsimile of the edition published by the
EARLY ENGLISH DRAMA SOCIETY, LONDON in 1907

CHARLES W. TRAYLEN
GUILDFORD, ENGLAND

[Pg iv] [Pg v]

PREFACE

Unquestionably the chief interest of this volume will centre in the three recently recovered "lost" Tudor Plays: Wealth and Health, Impatient Poverty, and John the Evangelist. It was, in truth, a unique and notable "find"—one that gladdened the world's scholarship. In June 1906 it was announced that no fewer than seventeen of the rarest pre-Shakespearean interludes, including three "lost" plays and four apparently unknown or unrecorded editions, had been unearthed in an Irish country house. Yet the owner of this quarto volume of old plays, the hammer value of which ultimately proved to be over £2600, thought so little, or knew so little, of its value that it was sent over to the London auctioneers without a cover!

It is a matter of surmise, perhaps idle enough, how these old plays got so far afield from the usual centres of early dramatic interest and effort. Still it shows that we need not despair of further "recoveries"; in the most unlikely quarters and when least expected other lost plays of the Tudor period may turn up; and, it must be confessed, if only a tithe of known plays not now traceable are restored, the gain to scholarship will be invaluable.

Public interest in this recent recovery was at once aroused; and the contest for possession, when brought to the hammer, was of the keenest. Mr. Bernard Quaritch secured every one. It is, however, a matter of profound satisfaction to know that the rarest and best items of the collection, the "lost" plays and unrecorded editions, were bought for the nation.

As a matter of record I may state that the British Museum authorities secured—the prices given are the hammer prices—King Darius (unknown edition, £132); John the Evangelist (lost play, £102); The Nice Wanton (unknown edition, £169); Play of the Weather (unknown edition, £90); Wealth and Health (lost play, £95); Lusty Juventus (unknown edition, £140); and Impatient Poverty (lost play, £150).

America took The Trial of Treasure (£160) and Apius and Virginia (£101). I have not, however, as yet, been able to locate them more definitely.

Mr. T. J. Wise purchased Cambyses (£169) and Gammer Gurton's Needle (£180).

Octavia (£82) was purchased for Mr. J. H. Wrenn.

Others were announced for sale by Mr. Quaritch in his catalogue (No. 254) dated Dec. 1906. The titles of these plays and the auction price were: Jacob and Esau (£148); The Tide Tarrieth for no Man (£176); The Disobedient Child (£233); Youth; and The New Custom (£155).

It is my good fortune in the present volume to be the first to make the three "lost" plays available for scholars. The greatest care has been taken to furnish a faithful rendering of the original texts; these have been set from rotary-bromide photographs of the unique copies now in national custody. Moreover, to meet the requirements of "textual experts" and the "higher criticism" these three plays form the first series of my Tudor Fascimile Texts, and will shortly be available in collotype. The four "unknown" editions already noted are also being reproduced by the same process and will form Series II. of the same collection.

Space—this volume is already much over-grown—forbids further comment. Nor would it be proper here and now. The recovery is too recent to have afforded an adequate opportunity for more than the most cursory examination; indeed, my strong feeling has been that I should best serve the wishes of the subscribers to the Early English Drama Society's publications by losing no time in placing these texts before them.

The other early interludes which complete the present collection are likewise rare and more or less difficult of access.

JOHN S. FARMER.

18 Bury Street, W.C.

CONTENTS

PAGE

Mankind

1

Nature. By Henry Medwall

41

The Play of Wit and Science. By John Redford

135

Respublica

177

An Interlude of Wealth and Health

273

An Interlude of Impatient Poverty

311

The Interlude of John the Evangelist

349

Note-book and Word-list

369

[MANKIND
c. 1475 A MORALITY PORTRAYING THE LIFE OF NE'ER-DO-WEELS IN LATE PLANTAGENET AND EARLY TUDOR TIMES]

[The Names of the Players:

• Mercy
• Mankind
• Mischief
• New Guise
• Nought
• Now-a-days
• Titivillus]

MANKIND

[Enter Mercy.]

Mercy. The very Founder and Beginner of our first creation, Among us sinful wretches He oweth to be magnified; That, for our disobedience, He had none indignation To send His own Son to be torn and crucified. Our obsequious service to Him should be applied: Where He was Lord of all, and made all thing of nought, For the sinful sinner, to have him revived, And, for his redemption, set His own Son at nought. That may be said and verified: Mankind was dear bought; By the piteous death of Jesu he had his remedy; He was purged of his default—that wretchedly had wrought— By His glorious passion, that blessed lavatory. O sovereigns! I beseech you your conditions to rectify; And, with humility and reverence, to have a remotion To this blessed Prince, that our nature doth glorify; That ye may be participable of His retribution. I have be[en] the very mean for your restitution: Mercy is my name, that mourneth for your offence. Divert not yourself in time of temptation, That ye may be acceptable to God at your going hence; The great mercy of God, that is of most pre-eminence, By meditation of our Lady, that is ever abundant To the sinful creature that will repent his negligence: I pray God, at your most need, that Mercy be your defendant. In good works I advise you, sovereigns! to be perseverant; To purify your souls that they be not corrupt; For your ghostly enemy will make his avaunt, Your good conditions if he may interrupt. O! ye sovereigns that sit, and ye brothern that stand right up, Pryke not your felicities in things transitory! Behold not the earth, but lift your eye up! See how the head the members daily do magnify. Who is the head? forsooth! I shall you certify: I mean our Saviour that was likened to a lamb; And His saints be the members, that daily He doth satisfy With the precious river that runneth from His womb. There is none such food by water, nor by land; So precious, so glorious, so needful to our intent; For it hath dissolved Mankind from the bitter bond Of the mortal enemy, that venomous serpent: From the which, God preserve you all at the last judgment! For, sikerly, there shall be a strerat examination: The corn shall be saved; the chaff shall be brent— I beseech you heartily have this premeditation.

[Enter Mischief.]

Mischief. I beseech you heartily leave your calculation! Leave your chaff! leave your corn! leave your dalliation! Your wit is little; your head is mickle; ye are full of predication! But, sir! I pray [you] this question to clarify: Driff, draff! mish, mash! Some was corn, and some was chaff; My dame said my name was Raff. Unshut your lock and take an halfpenny!

Mer. Why come ye hither, brother? ye were not desired.

Mis. For a winter corn thresher, sir! I have hired. And ye said: the corn should be saved and the chaff should be fired; And he proveth nay, as it showeth by this verse: Corn serveth breadibus, chaff horsibus, straw firibusque. This is as much to say, to your lewd understanding, As: the corn shall serve to bread at the next baking; chaff horsibus, et reliqu[i]d, The chaff to horse shall be good produce; When a man is for-cold the straw may be brent; And so forth, etc.

Mer. Avoid, good brother! ye been culpable To interrupt thus my talking delectable.

Mis. Sir! I have nother horse nor saddle; Therefore, I may not ride.

Mer. Hie you forth on foot, brother! in God's name!

Mis. I say, sir! I am come hither to make you game; Yet, bade ye me not go out in the devil's name, And I will abide.

[A leaf of the manuscript has probably been lost at this point. It commences again by the entry of New Guise, Nought and Now-a-days with a band of minstrels.]

New Guise. And ho, minstrels! play the common trace; Lay on with thy bales till his belly brest!

Nought. I put case: I break my neck—how than?

New G. I give no force, by saint Anne!

Now-a-days. Leap about lively! thou art a white man; Let us be merry while we be here!

Nought. Shall I break my neck to show you sport?

Now. Therefore, ever beware of thy report!

Nought. I beshrew you all! here is a shrewd sort; Have there at them, with a merry cheer!

[Here they dance. Mercy saith,

Mer. Do way! do way this revel, sirs! do way!

Now. Do way, good Adam! do way! This is no part of thy play.

Nought. Yes, marry! I pray you; for I love not this revelling; Come forth, good father! I you pray; By a little ye may assay. Anon, off with your clothes! if ye will pray. Go to! I have had a pretty scottling.

Mer. Nay, brother! I will not dance;

New G. If ye will, sir! my brother will make you to prance.

Now. With all my heart, sir! if I may you avance; Ye may assay by a little trace.

Nought. Yea, sir! will ye do well? Trace not with them, by my counsel! For I have traced somewhat to fell; I tell [you] it is a narrow space. But, sir! I trow, of us three I heard you speak.

New G. Christ's curse have ye, therefore! for I was in sleep.

Now. A[nd] I had the cup in my hand, ready to go to meat— Therefore, sir! curtly, greet you well!

Mer. Few words! few, and well set!

New G. Sir! it is the new guise and the new jet. Many words and shortly set— This is the new guise every deal.

Mer. Lady, help! how wretches delight in their simple ways!

Now. Say no[ugh]t again the new guise now-a-days! Thou shall find us sh[r]ews at all assays: Beware! ye may soon lick a buffet.

Mer. He was well occupied that brought you hither!

Nought. I heard you call New Guise, Now-a-days, Nought: all these three together. If ye say that I lie, I shall make you to slither: Lo, take you here a trepitt!

Mer. Say me your names! I know you not.

New G. [Now, and Nought, in turn]. New Guise, I! Now-a-days, [I]! I, Nought!

Mer. By Jesu Christ! that me dear bought; Ye betray many men.

New G. Betray? nay, nay, sir! nay, nay! We make them both fresh and gay. But, of your name, sir, I you pray! That we may you ken.

Mer. Mercy is my name and my denomination. I conceive ye have but a little force in my communication.

New G. Ay, ay! your body is full of English Latin.

Now. I pray you heartily, worshipful clerk! I have eaten a dishful of curds, And I have shitten your mouth full of turds. Now, open your satchel with Latin words, And say me this, in clerical manner: Also, I have a wife; her name is Rachael; Betwixt her and me was a great battle; And fain, of you, I would hear tell Who was the most master.

Nought. Thy wife, Rachel, I dare lay twenty lice!

Now. Who spake to thee? fool! thou art not wise; Go and do that longeth to thine office: Osculare fundamentum!

Nought. Lo, master! here is a pardon by limit; It is granted of Pope Pockett: If ye will put your nose in his wife's socket, Ye shall have forty days of pardon.

Mer. This idle language ye shall repent; Out of this place I would ye went.

New G. Go we hence, all three, with one assent; My father is irk of our eloquence; Therefore, I will no longer tarry. God bring you, master, and blessed Mary! To the number of the demonical frayry—

Now. Come wind: come rain! Though I come never again; The devil put out both your eyne! Fellows! go we hence tight!

Nought. Go we hence, a devil way! Here is the door; here is the way! Farewell, gentle Geoffrey! I pray God give you good night! [Exiunt sil.

Mer. Thanked be God! we have a fair deliverance Of these three unthrifty guests: They know full little what is their ordinance. I preve by reason they be worse than beasts: A beast doth after his natural institution; Ye may conceive, by their disport and behaviour, Their joy and delight is in derision Of their own Christ, to His dishonour. This condition of living, it is prejudicial; Beware thereof! it is worse than any felony or treason. How may it be excused before the justice of all When, for every idle word, we must yield a reason? They have great ease; therefore, they will take no thought; But how then, when the angel of heaven shall blow the trump, And say to the transgressors that wickedly have wrought: "Come forth unto your Judge, and yield your account!" Then shall I, Mercy, begin sore to weep; Nother comfort nor counsel, there shall none be had; But, such as they have sown, such shall they reap; They be wanton now; but, then, shall they be sad. The good new guise, now-a-days, I will not disallow; I discommend the vicious guise—I pray have me excused— I need not to speak of it; your reason will tell it you: Take that is to be taken, and leave that is to be refused!

[Enter Mankind.]

Mankind. Of the earth and of the clay we have our propagation; By the providence of God thus we be derived: To whose mercy I recommend this whole congregation. I hope unto His bliss ye be all predestinate: Every man, for his degree, I trust shall be participate; If we will mortify our carnal condition, And our voluntary desires that ever be pervertionate— To renounce these and yield us under God's provision. My name is Mankind; I have my composition Of a body and of a soul, of condition contrary. Betwixt the twain is a great division: He that should be s[u]bject, now he hath the victory. This is to me a lamentable story: To see my flesh, of my soul to have governance; Where the good wife is master, the goodman may be sorry. Alas! what was thy fortune and thy chance To be associate with my flesh, that stinking dunghill? Lady, help! Sovereigns! it doth my soul much ill To see the flesh prosperous, and the soul trodden under foot. I shall go to yonder man; and assay him I will; I trust of ghostly solace he will be my boot.

[Mankind approaches Mercy.

All hail, seemly father! ye be welcome to this house; Of the very wisdom ye have participation. My body with my soul is ever querulous; I pray you, for Saint Charity! of your supportation. I beseech you, heartily, of your ghostly comfort; I am unsteadfast in living; my name is Mankind; My ghostly enemy, the devil, will have a great disporte In sinful guiding, if he may see me end.

Mer. Christ send you good comfort! ye be welcome, my friend! Stand up on your feet! I pray you, arise! My name is Mercy; ye be to me full hend: To eschew vice I will you advise.

Man. O, Mercy! of all grace and virtue ye are the well: I have heard tell, of right-worshipful clerks, Ye be approximate to God and near of His counsel; He hath institute you above all His works— Oh! your lovely works to my soul are sweeter than honey.

Mer. The temptation of the flesh ye must resist, like a man; For, there is ever a battle betwixt the soul and the body: Vita hominis est milicia super terram. Oppress your ghostly enemy, and be Christ's own knight; Be never a coward again your adversary; If ye will be crowned, ye must needs fight! Intend well; and God will be you[r] adjutory! Remember, my friend! the time of continuance; So, help me God! it is but a chery-time. Spend it well! serve God with heart's affiance! Distemper not your brain with good ale, nor with wine! Measure is treasure; I forbid you not the use; Measure yourself! ever beware of excess! The superfluous guise, I will that ye refuse: When nature is sufficed, anon that ye cease. If a man have an horse, and keep him not too high, He may then rule him at his own desire; If he be fed over well he will disobey; And, in hap, cast his master in the mire.

New G. Ye say true, sir! ye are no faitour; I have fed my wife so well till she is my master. I have a great wound on my head; lo! and thereon layeth a plaster; And another—there! I piss my peson. And my wife were your horse, she would you all to-samne. Ye feed your horse in measure: ye are a wise man! I trow and ye were the king's palfry-man, A good horse should be gesumme.

Man. Where speaks this fellow? will he not come near?

Mer. All too soon, my brother! I fear me for you. He was here right now—by Him that bought me dear!— With other of his fellows; they can much sorrow. They will be here right soon, if I out depart. Think on my doctrine! that shall be your defence; Learn while I am here! set my words in heart! Within a short space I must needs hence.

[Now-a-days and Nought return.]

Now. The sooner the liever; and that be even anon! I trow your name is Do-little—ye be so long from home; If ye would go hence we shall come, everyone, Mo than a good sort! Ye have liever, I dare well say! To them ye will go forth your way— Men have little dainty of your play Because ye make no sport.

Nought. Your pottage shall be for-cold, sir! when will ye go dine? I have seen a man lost twenty nobles in as little time; Yet it was not I, by saint Quintin! For I was never worth a potful a' worts sithen I was born. My name is Nought; I love well to make merry; I have be sithen with the common tapster of Bury. I played so long the fool that I am even very weary: Yet shall I be there again, to-morrow. [Exeunt.

Mer. I have much care for you, my own friend! Your enemies will be here anon; they make their avaunt. Think well in your heart—your name is Mankind— Be not unkind to God, I pray you! be His servant! Be steadfast in condition! see ye be not variant! Lose not, through folly, that is bought so dear. God will prove you soon; and, if that ye be constant, Of His bliss perpetual ye shall be partner. Ye may not have your intent at your first desire; See the great patience of Job in tribulation: Like as the smith trieth iron in the fire, So was he tried by God's visitation. He was of your nature, and of your fragility: Follow the steps of him, my own sweet son! And say, as he said, in your trouble and adversity: Dominus dedit, Dominus abstulit, sicut sibi placuit; sit nomen Domini benedictum! Moreover, in special, I give you in charge: Beware of New Guise, Now-a-days and Nought! Nice in their array, in language they be large; To pervert your conditions all their means shall be sought. Good son! intermise yourself not in their company! They heard not a mass thi[s] twelvemonth, I dare well say; Give them none audience! they will tell you many a lie; Do truly your labour, and keep your holyday! Beware of Titivillus—for he leseth no way— That goeth invisible and will not be seen; He will rond in your ear, and cast a net before your eyne; He is worst of all: God let him never thene! If ye displease God, ask mercy anon; Else Mischief will be ready to brace you in his bridle. Kiss me now, my dear darling! God shie[l]d you from your fone! Do truly your labour, and be never idle! The blessing of God be with you, and with all these worshipful men!

Man. Amen! for saint Charity, Amen! Now, blessed be Jesu! my soul is well satiate With the mellifluous doctrine of this worshipful man. The rebellion of my flesh, now it is superate, Thanking be [to] God, of the cunning that I can. Here will I sit, and tittle in this paper The incomparable estate of my promotion. Worshipful Sovereigns! I have written here The glorious remembrance of my noble condition, To have remo[r]se and memory of myself: thus written it is To defend me from all superstitious charms: Memento, homo, quod cinis es, et in cinerem reverteris. Lo! I bear on my breast the badge of mine arms.

[New Guise enters, but remains in the background.]

New G. The weather is cold; God send us good fires! Cum sancto sanctus eris, et cum perverso, perverteris. Ecce quam bonum et quam jocundum, quod the devil to the friars, Habitare fratres in unum.

Man. I hear a fellow speak; with him I will not mell. This earth with my spade I shall assay to delve; To eschew idleness I do that mine own self; I pray God send it His fusion!

[Enter Now-a-days and Nought.]

Now. Make room, sirs, for we have be long! We will come give you a Christmas song.

Nought. Now, I pray all the yemandry, that is here, To sing with us with a merry cheer:

[Nought sings.

It is written with a coal, it is written with a coal—

New G. and Now. It is written with a coal, it is written, etc.

Nought. He that shitteth with his hole, he that shitteth with his hole—

New G. [and] Now. He that shitteth with his hole, etc.

Nought. But he wipe his arse clean, but he, etc.—

New G. [and] Now. But he wipe his arse clean, but he, etc.

Nought. On his breech it shall be seen, on his breech, etc.—

New G. [and] Now. On his breech it shall be seen, on his breech, etc.

Cantant omnes. Holyke, holyke, holyke! holyke, holyke, holyke!

New G. Hey, Mankind! God speed you with your spade! I shall tell you of a marriage: I would your mouth and his arse, that is made, Were married junctly together!

Man. Hie you hence, fellows! with breeding; Leave your derision and your japing! I must needs labour; it is my living.

Now. What, sir! we came but late hither— Shall all this corn grow here That ye shall have the next year? If it be so, corn had need be dear; Else ye shall have a poor life.

Nought. Alas, good father! this labour fretteth you to the bone; But, for your crop I take great moan; Ye shall never spend it alone— I shall assay to get you a wife. How many acres suppose ye here, by estimation?

New G. Hey! how ye turn the earth up and down! I have be, in my days, in many good town, Yet saw I never such another tilling!

Man. Why stand ye idle? it is pity that ye were born!

Now. We shall bargain with you; and nother mock nor scorn— Take a good cart in harvest, and load it with your corn, And what shall we give you for the leaving?

Nought. He is a good, stark labourer; he would fain do well— He hath met with the good man, Mercy, in a shroud cell: For all this, he may have many a hungry meal. Yet, well ye see, he is politic: Here shall be good corn; he may not miss it; If he will have rain, he may overpiss it; And if he will have compos[t] he may overbliss it A little, with his arse like.

Man. Go, and do your labour! God let you never thee! Or, with my spade, I shall you ding, by the holy Trinity! Have ye none other man to mock, but ever me? Ye would have me of your set? Hie you forth, lively! for hence I will you driffe!

[Mankind belabours them with his spade.

New G. Alas, my jewels! I shall be shent of my wife!

Now. Alas! and I am like never for to thrive; I have such a buffet!

Man. Hence, I say, New Guise, Now-a-days, and Nought! It was said beforn: all the means shall be sought To pervert my conditions and bring me to nought— Hence, thieves! ye have made many a leasing!

Nought. Marred I was for cold, but now am I warm! Ye are evil advised, sir! for ye have done harm. By Cock's body sacred! I have such a pain in my arm I may not change a man a farthing!

Man. Now, I thank God, kneeling on my knee: Blessed be His name! He is of high degree. By the aid of His grace, that He hath sent me, Three of mine enemies I have put to flight; [Shows his spade. Yet this instrument, sovereigns! is not made to defend— David saith: Nec in hasta, nec in gladio, saluat Dominus.

Nought. No, marry! I beshrew you! it is in spadibus! Therefore, Christ's curse come on your headibus, To send you less might! [They go out.

Man. I promit you, these fellows will no more come here; For some of them, certainly, were somewhat too near! My father, Mercy, advised me to be of a good cheer, And again my enemies manly for to fight. I shall convict them, I hope, every one— Yet I say amiss; I do it not alone— With the help of the grace of God I resist my fone And their malicious heart. With my spade I will depart, my worship[f]ul sovereigns! And live ever with labour, to correct my insolence. I shall go fet corn for my land; I pray you of patience; Right soon I shall revert. [Exit.

[Enter Mischief.]

Mis. Alas, alas! that ever I was wrought! Alas! the while I [am] worse than nought! Sithen I was here, by Him that me bought! I am utterly undone! I, Mischief, was here, at the beginning of the game, And argued with Mercy; God give him shame! He hath taught Mankind, while I have be vane, To fight manly again his fone; For, with his spade—that was his weapon— New Guise, Now-a-days, Nought hath [he] all to-beaten: I have great pity to see them weeping. Will ye list? I hear them cry!

[New Guise, Now-a-days, and Nought enter.]

Alas, alas! come hither! I shall be your borrow. Alack, alack! veni, veni! Come hither, with sorrow! Peace, fair babies! ye shall have a napple to-morrow: Why greet you so, why?

New G. Alas, master! alas my privity!

[Commences to untruss.

Mis. A! where? alack! fair babe, ba me! Abide! too soon I shall it see!

Now. Here, here! see my head, good master!

Mis. Lady, help! silly darling! veni, veni! I shall help thee of thy pain; I shall smite off thy head, and set it on again.

Nought. By our Lady, sir! a fair plaster! Will ye off with his head? it is a shrewd charm! As for me I have none harm; I were loth to forbear mine arm. Ye play: in nomine Patris, chop!

New G. Ye shall not chop my jewels, and I may!

Now. Yea, Christ's cross! will ye smite my head away? There! we're on anon; out! ye shall not assay— I might well be called a fop!

Mis. I can chop it off, and make it again.

New G. I had a shrewd recumbentibus, but I feel no pain.

Now. And my head is all safe and whole again. Now, touching the matter of Mankind, Let us have an interlection sithen ye be come hither; It were good to have an end.

Mis. Ho, ho! a minstrel! know ye any aught?

Nought. I can pipe on a Walsingham whistle, I, Nought, Nought.

Mis. Blow apace! thou shall bring him in with a flowte.

[Titivillus roars from outside.

Titivillus. I come with my legs under me!

Mis. Ho! New Guise, Now-a-days, hark! or I go: When our heads were together I spake of "Si didero."

New G. So! go thy way! we shall gather money unto; Else there shall no man him see. Now, ghostly to our purpose, worshipful sovereigns! We intend to gather money, if it please your negligence, For a man with a head that [is] of great omnipotence—

Now. Keep your tail! in goodness, I pray you, good brother!— He is a worshipful man, sirs, saving your reverence! He loveth no groats, nor pence, nor two pence; Give us red royals if ye will see his abominable presence!

New G. Not so! ye that mow not pay the tone, pay the tother— At the good man of this house first we will assay! God bless you, master! ye say us ill, yet ye will not say nay. Let us go by and by, and do them pay! Ye pay all alike? well mu[s]t ye fare!

Nought. I say, New Guise, Now-a-days! Estis vos pecuniatus? I have cried a fair while, I beshrew your patus!

Now. Ita vere magister; come forth now, your gatus! He is a goodly man, sirs! make space and beware!

[Enter Titivillus dressed devilwise, net in hand.]

Titi. Ego sum dominantium dominus, and my name is Titivillus! Ye that have good horse, to you I say, Caveatis! Here is an able fellowship to trise him out at your gates.

[Loquitur ad New Guise.

Ego probo sic: sir New Guise, lend me a penny!

New G. I have a great purse, sir! but I have no money: By the mass! I fail two farthings of an half-penny; Yet had I ten pounds this night that was.

[Loquitur ad Now-a-days.

Titi. What is in thy purse? thou art a stout fellow!

Now. The devil have [thee]! while I am a clean gentleman I pray God I be never worse stored than I am! It shall be otherwise, I hope, or this night pass.

[Loquitur ad Nought.

Titi. Hark now, I say! thou hast many a penny?

Nought. No[n] nobis, Domine, non nobis; by saint Denis! The devil may dance in my purse for any penny; It is as clean as a bird's arse.

Titi. Now I say, yet again, Caveatis! Here is an able fellowship to trise them out of your gates. Now, I say, New Guise, Now-a-days, and Nought, Go and search the country, anon, that be sought! Some here, some there—what if ye may catch aught— If ye fail of horse, take what ye may else!

New G. Then speak to Mankind for the recumbentibus of my jewels!

Now. Remember my broken head in the worship of the five vowels!

Nought. Yea, good sir! and the sitica in my arm—

Titi. I know full well what Mankind did to you; Mischief hat[h] informed [me] of all the matter through; I shall venge your quarrel, I make God a vow! Forth! and espy where ye may do harm! Take W[illiam] Fide if ye will have any mo— I say, New Guise! whither art thou advised to go?

New G. First, I shall begin at m[aster] Huntington of Sanston; From thence I shall go to William Thurlay of Hanston, And so, forth to Pichard of Trumpington: I will keep me to these three.

Now. I shall go to William Baker of Walton; To Richard Bollman of Gayton; I shall spare Master Wood of Fulbourn: He is a noli-me-tangere!

Nought. I shall go to William Patrick of Massingham; I shall spare Master Allington of Bottisham, And Hammond of Swaftham, For dread of In manus tuas queck. Fellows, come forth! and go we hence together!

New G. Sith we shall go, let us see well where and whither; If we may be take, we come no more hither; Let us con well our neck-verse that we have not a check.

Titi. Go your way—a devil way—go your way, all! I bless you with my left hand: foul you befall! Come again, I warn, as soon as I you call, A[nd] bring your advantage into this place!

[They go out and leave Titivillus.

To speak with Mankind I will tarry here this tide, And assay his good purpose for to set aside; The good man, Mercy, shall no longer be his guide: I shall make him to dance another trace! Ever I go invisible—it is my jet— And before his eye, thus, I will hang my net To blench his sight; I hope to have his foot met. To irk him of his labour I shall make a frame: This board shall be hid under the earth, privily; His spade shall enter, I hope, unreadily. By then he hath assayed he shall be very angry, And lose his patience, pain of shame! I shall menge his corn with drawk and with darnel; It shall not be like to sow nor to sell— Yonder he cometh: I pray of counsell; He shall ween grace were wane.

[Enter Mankind.]

Man. Now, God, of His mercy, send us of His sonde! I have brought seed here to sow with my lond; While I over-delve it, here it shall stond. In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus sancti! now I will begin. This land is so hard, it maketh unlusty and irk; I shall sow my corn at winter, and let God work. Alas! my corn is lost; here is a foul work! I see well, by tilling, little shall I win; Here I give up my spade, for now and for ever.

[Here Titivillus goes out with the spade.

To occupy my body, I will not put me in dever; I will hear my evensong here or I dissever. This place I assign as for my kirk; Here, in my kirk, I kneel on my knees: Pater noster, qui es in celis—

[Enter Titivillus.]

Titi. I promise you I have no lead on my heels; I am here again to make this fellow irk. Whist! peace! I shall go to his ear and tittle therein—

[Goes to Mankind.

A short prayer thirleth heaven—of thy prayer blin! Thou art holier than ever was any of thy kin: Arise, and avent thee! nature compels!

Man. I will into thi[s] yard, sovereigns! and come again soon; For dread of the colic, and eke of the stone, I will go do that needs must be done; My beads shall be here for whosomever will come. [Mankind goes out.

Titi. Mankind was busy in his prayer, yet I did him arise; He is conveyed, by Christ! from his divine service. Whither is he? trow ye? I-wis, I am wonder-wise: I have sent him forth to shit lesings. If ye have any silver, in hap pure brass, Take a little pow[d]er of Paris and cast over his face; And even in the owl-flight let him pass— Titivillus can learn you many pretty things! I trow Mankind will come again soon, Or else, I fear me, evensong will be done: His beades shall be triced aside, and that anon. Ye shall [see] a good sport if ye will abide— Mankind cometh again; well fare he! I shall answer him ad omnia quare. There shall he set abroach a clerical maller; I hope of his purpose to set him aside.

[Re-enter Mankind.]

Man. Evensong hath be in the saying, I trow, a fair while; I am irk of it; it is too long by one mile. Do way! I will no more, so oft, on the church stile; Be as it may, I shall do another. Of labour and prayer, I am near irk of both; I will no more of it though Mercy be wroth. My head is very heavy; I tell you, forsooth! I shall sleep, full my belly and he were my brother.

[Mankind sleeps and snores.

Titi. And ever ye did, me keep now your silence! Not a word! I charge you, pain of forty pence! A praty game shall be showed you or ye go hence. Ye may hear him snore; he is sad a-sleep. Whist! peace! the devil is dead! I shall go rond in his ear: Alas, Mankind, alas! Mercy [has] stolen a mare; He is run away from his master, there wot no man where; Moreover, he stale both a horse and a neat. But yet, I heard say, he brake his neck as he rode in France; But I think he rideth over the gallows, to learn for to dance, Because of his theft: that is his governance. Trust no more on him; he is a marred man! Mickle sorrow with thy spade beforn thou hast wrought; Arise, and ask mercy of New Guise, Now-a-days, and Nought! They come! Advise thee for the best; let their good will be sought; And thy own wife brethel, and take thee a leman! Farewell, everyone! for I have done my game; For I have brought Mankind to mischief and to shame.

[Titivillus goes out.

Man. Whoop! ho! Mercy hath broken his neckercher, a vows! Or he hangeth by the neck high up on the gallows. Adieu, fair master! I will haste me to the ale-house, And speak with New Guise, Now-a-days, and Nought; A[nd] get me a leman with a smattering face.

[Enter New Guise.]

New G. Make space! for Cock's body sacred, make space! Aha! well! on! run! God give him evil grace! We were near saint Patrick's way, by Him that me bought! I was twitched by the neck; the game was begun; A grace was; the halter brast asunder—Ecce signum!— The half is about my neck: we had a near run! "Beware!" quod the good wife when she smote off her husband's head—"beware!" Mischief is a convict, for he could his neck-verse— My body gave a swing when I hung upon the casse. Alas! who will hang such a likely man, and a fierce, For stealing of an horse? I pray God give him care! Do way this halter! what [the] devil doth Mankind here? with sorrow!— Alas, how my neck is sore, I make avow!

M[an]. Ye be welcome, New Guise! Sir! what cheer with you?

New G. Well, sir! I have no cause to mourn.

M[an]. What was there about your neck? so God you amend!

New G. In faith! saint Audrey's holy bend; I have a little dishele, as it please God to send, With a running ringworm.

[Enter Now-a-days.]

Now. Stand, aroom! I pray thee, brother mine! I have laboured all this night; when shall we go dine? A church, here beside, shall pay for ale, bread, and wine; Lo! here is stuff will serve.

New G. Now, by the holy Mary! thou art better merchant than I!

[Enter Nought.]

Nought. Avaunt, knaves! let me go by! I can not geet, and I should starve.

[Enter Mischief.]

Mis. Here cometh a man of arms; why stand ye so still? Of murder and manslaughter I have my belly fill.

Now. What, Mischief! have ye been in prison? and it be your will, Meseemeth ye have sco[u]red a pair of fetters.

Mis. I was chained by the arms; lo! I have them here. The chains I brast asunder and killed the jailor; Yea, and his fair wife halsed in a corner: A! how sweetly I kissed that sweet mouth of hers! When I had do, I was mine own bottler; I brought away with me both dish and doubler. Here is enou' for me: be of good cheer! Yet, well fare the new che[vi]sance!

Man. I ask mercy of New Guise, Now-a-days, and Nought; Once, with my spade, I remember that I fought; I will make you amends if I hurt you aught, Or did any grievance.

New G. What a devil liketh thee to be of this disposition?

Man. I dreamt Mercy was hang[ed]: this was my vision; And that, to you three, I should have recourse and remotion. Now, I pray you, heartily, of your good will; I cry you mercy of all that I did amiss!

Now. [Aside.] I say, New Guise, Nought! Titivillus made all this; As siker as God is in heaven, so it is!

Nought. Stand up on your feet! why stand ye so still?

New G. Master Mischief! we will you exhort, Mankind's name, in your book, for to report.

Mis. I will not so! I will set a court— Ah! do it [in] forma juris d'hasard!

[Now-a-days make[th] proclamation.

Now. Oyez! oyez! oyez! All manner of men, and common women, To the Court of Mischief either come or send; Mankind shall return, he is one of our men!

Mis. Nought! come forth! thou shall be steward.

New G. Master Mischief! his side-gown may be sold; He may have a jacket thereof, and money told.

Man. I will do for the best, so I have no cold. Hold! I pray you, and take it with you.

Nought (scri[bit]). And let me have it again in any wise.

New G. I promise you a fresh jacket after the new guise.

Man. Go! and do that longeth to your office; A[nd] spare that ye may!

[New Guise goeth out.

Nought. Hold, Master Mischief, and read this!

Mis. Here is blottibus in blottis, Blottorum blottibus istis: I beshrew your ears! a fair hand!

Now. Yea! it is a good running fist; Such an hand may not be missed! [Goes out.

Nought. I should have done better, had I wist.

Mis. Take heed, sirs, it stand you on hand! Curia tenta generalis, In a place—there good ale is!— Anno regni regitalis. Edwardi millatene, On yestern-day in Febru'ry—the year passeth fully— As Nought hath written—here is our Tulli, Anno regni regis nulli.

Now. What ho, New Guise! thou makest much [tarrying]; That jacket shall not be worth a farthing.

[Re-enter New Guise.]

New. G. Out of my way, sirs! for dread of fighting! Lo! here is a feat tail, light to leap about!

Nought. It is not shapen worth a morsel of bread; There is too much cloth; it weighs as any lead. I shall go and mend it; else I will lose my head— Make space, sirs! let me go out!

[Nought goes out.

Mis. Mankind, come hither! God send you the gout! Ye shall go to all the good fellows in the country about; Unto the good-wife when the good-man is out— "I will," say ye!

Man. I will, sir!

New G. There arn'[t] but six deadly sins; lechery is none; As it may be verified by us brethels everyone. Ye shall go rob, steal, and kill, as fast as ye may gone— "I will," say ye!

Man. I will, sir!

Now. On Sundays, on the morrow, early betime, Ye shall with us to the ale-house early, to go dine; A[nd] forbear mass and matins, hours and prime— "I will," say ye!

M[an]. I will, sir!

Mis. Ye must have by your side a long dapacem, As true men ride by the way, for to unbrace them; Take their money, cut their throats; thus over face them— "I will," say ye!

Man. I will, sir!

[Re-enter Nought.]

Nought. Here is a jolly jacket—how say ye?

New G. It is a good jake of fence for a man's body— Hi, dog! hi! whoop, ho! go your way lightly! Ye are well made for to ren!

Mis. Tidings! tidings! I have espied one! Hence with your stuff! fast we were gone! I beshrew the last shall come to his home! Amen! [Dicant omnes.

[Enter Mercy.]

Mer. What ho, Mankind! flee that fellowship, I you pray!

Man. I shall speak with [thee] another time; to-morn or the next day.

[To the others.

We shall go forth together to keep my father's year-day: A tapster! a tapster! stow, statt, stow!

Mis. A mischief go with [thee]! here I have a foul fall. Hence! away from me! or I shall beshit you all!

New G. What ho, ostler! ostler, lend us a foot-ball! Whoop! ho! anow, anow, anow! [They go out.

Mer. My mind is dispersed; my body tir-trimmeleth as the aspen leaf; The tears should trickle down by my cheeks, were not your reverence! It were to me solace, the cruel visitation of death! Without rude behaviour I can[not] express this inconvenience: Weeping, sighing, and sobbing, were my sufficiance; All natural nutriment, to me, as carene, is odible; My inward affliction yieldeth me tedious unto your presence; I cannot bear it evenly that Mankind is so flexible. Man unkind, wherever thou be! for all this world was not apprehensible To discharge thine original offence, thraldom and captivity, Till God's own well-beloved Son was obedient and passible: Every drop of His blood was shed to purge thine iniquity. I discommend and disallow this often mutability! To every creature thou art dispectuous and odible— Why art thou so uncurtess, so inconsiderate? alas, woe is me! As the vane that turneth with the wind, so thou art convertible! In trust is treason: thy promise is not credible; Thy perversious ingratitude I cannot rehearse; To go over, to all the holy court of heaven thou art dispectable, As a noble versifier maketh mention in his verse: "Lex et natura, Christus et omnia jura Damnant ingratum; lugetur eum fore natum." O, good Lady, and Mother of Mercy! have pity and compassion Of the wretchedness of Mankind, that is so wanton and so frail! Let mercy exceed justice, dear Mother! admit this supplication! Equity to be laid over part[l]y, and mercy to prevail! Too sensual living is reprovable, that is now-a-days, As by the comprehence of this matter it may be specified. New Guise, Now-a-days, Nought, with their allectuous ways They have perverted Mankind, my sweet son, I have well espied. A! with these cursed caitiffs, and I may, he shall not long endure; I, Mercy, his father ghostly, will proceed forth and do my property. Lady, help! this manner of living is a detestable pleasure; Vanitas vanitatum: all is but a vanity! Mercy shall never be convict of his uncurtess condition; With weeping tears, by night and by day, I will go and never cease. Shall I not find him? Yes, I hope; now, God be my protection! My predelict son! where be ye? Mankind! Ubi es?

[Mischief re-enters with his companions.

Mis. My prepotent father! when ye sup, sup out your mess! Ye are all to-gloried in your terms; ye make many a lesse. Will ye hear? he cryeth over Mankind, Ubi es?

New G. Hic, hic, hic! hic, hic, hic! hic, hic!       *       *       *       *       * That is to say: here! here! here! nigh dead in the crick. If ye will have him, go and seek, seek, seek! Seek not over long, for losing of your mind!

Now. If ye will have Mankind—ho, domine, domine, domine!— Ye must speak to the shrive for a cepe coppus; Else ye must be fain to return with non est inventus. How say ye, sir? my bolt is shot!

Nought. I am doing of my needings; beware how ye shoot! Fie, fie, fie! I have foul arrayed my foot! Be wise for shooting with your tackles, for, God wot! My foot is foully over-shit.

Mis. A parlement! a parlement! come forth, Nought, behind! A counsel, belive! I am afeared Mercy will him find. How say ye? and what say ye? how shall we do with Mankind?

New G. Tush, a fly's wing! will ye do well? He weeneth Mercy were hung for stealing of a mare. Mischief! go say to him that Mercy seeketh everywhere; He will hang himself, I undertake, for fear.

Mis. I assent thereto; it is wittily said, and well.

Now. I whip it in thy coat! anon it were done! Now, saint Gabriel's mother save the clothes of thy shoon! All the books in the world, if they had be undone, Could not a counselled us bet.

Hic exit Mischief [apparently meeting Mankind as he is going out, and salutes him].

Mis. Ho, Mankind! Come and speak with Mercy; he is here, fast-by!

Man. A rope! a rope! a rope! I am not worthy.

Mis. Anon, anon, anon! I have it here ready; With a tree also that I have get. Hold the tree, Now-a-days! Nought! take heed and be wise!

New G. Lo, Mankind! do as I do! this is thy new guise; Give the rope just to thy neck: this is mine advice.

Mis. Help thyself, Nought! lo, Mercy is here! He scareth us with a bales; we may no longer tarry.

New G. Queck, queck, queck! alas, my throat! I beshrew you, marry! A, Mercy! Christ's copped curse go with you, and saint Davy! Alas, my weasand! ye were somewhat too near!

[All but Mercy and Mankind go out.

Mer. Arise, my precious redempt son! ye be to me full dear. He is so timorous; meseemeth his vital spirit doth expi[re].

Man. Alas! I have be so bestially disposed; I dare not appear; To see your solicitous face, I am not worthy to desire.

Mer. Your criminous complaint woundeth my heart as a lance. Dispose yourself meekly to ask mercy, and I will assent. Yield me neither gold nor treasure, but your humble obeisance, The voluntary subjection of your heart, and I am content.

Man. What! ask mercy yet once again? alas! it were a wild petition. Ever to offend, and ever to ask mercy—that is a puerility. It is so abominable to rehearse my worst transgression; I am not worthy to have mercy, by no possibility.

Mer. O, Mankind! my sing'ler solace! this is a lamentable excuse! The dolorous fears of my heart, how they begin to amount! O, blessed Jesu! help thou this sinful sinner to redeem! Nam hæc est mutatio, dexteræ Excelsi; vertit Impios, et non sunt. Arise! and ask mercy, Mankind! and be associate to me. Thy death shall be my heaviness; alas! 'tis pity it should be thus. Thy obstinacy will exclude [thee] from the glorious perpetuity. Yet, for my love, ope thy lips and say, Miserere mei, Deus!

Man. The egal justice of God will not permit such a sinful wretch To be revived and restored again: it were impossible.

Mer. The justice of God will, as I will, as Himself doth precise: Nolo mortem peccatoris, inquit, and if he will [be] reducible.

Man. Then, mercy, good Mercy! what is a man without mercy? Little is our part of paradise were mercy ne where. Good Mercy! excuse the inevitable objection of my ghostly enemy; The proverb saith: the truth tryeth thyself. Alas! I have much care!

Mer. God will not make you privy unto His last judgment: Justice and equity shall be fortified, I will not deny; Truth may not so cruelly proceed in his straight argument But that mercy shall rule the matter, without controversy. Arise now, and go with me in this deambulatory. Incline your capacity; my doctrine is convenient. Sin not in hope of mercy; that is a crime notory; To trust overmuch in a prince, it is not expedient. In hope, when ye sin, ye think to have mercy—beware of that adventure! The good Lord said to the lecherous woman of Canaan— The holy gospel is the authority, as we read in Scripture— "Vade! et jam amplius noli peccare!" Christ preserved this sinful woman taken in advoutry; He said to her these words: "Go, and sin no more!" So to you; Go, and sin no more! Beware of vain confidence of mercy! Offend not a prince on trust of his favour! as I said before. If ye feel yourself trapped in the snare of your ghostly enemy, Ask mercy anon: beware of the continuance! While a wound is fresh it is proved curable by surgery; That, if it proceed over long, it is cause of great grievance.

Man. To ask mercy and to have—this is a liberal possession: Shall this expeditious petition ever be allowed, as ye have in sight?

Mer. In this present life mercy is plenty, till death maketh his division; But when ye be go, usque ad minimum quadrantem—ye sha[ll] reckon this right. Ask mercy and have, while the body with the sou[l] hath his annexion; If ye tarry till your decease, ye may hap of your desire to miss; Be repentant here; trust not the hour of death; think on this lesson: Ecce nunc tempus acceptabile! ecce nunc dies salutis! All the virtue in the wor[l]d, if ye might comprehend, Your merits were not premiable to the bliss above; Not to the lowli'st joy of heaven, of your proper effort to ascend; With Mercy ye may: I tell ye no fable—Scripture doth prove.

Man. O, Mercy! my suavious solace and singular recreatory! My predelict special! ye are worthy to have my love; For, without desert and means supplicatory, Ye be compatient to my inexcusable reproof. A! it swimmeth my heart to think how unwisely I have wrought! Titivilly, that goeth invisible, hung his net before my eye; And, by his fantastical visions, sedulously sought, By New Guise, Now-a-days, Nought, caused me to obey.

Mer. Mankind! ye were oblivious of my doctrine manitory; I said before: Titivilly would assay you a bront. Beware from henceforth of his fables delusory! The proverb saith: Jacula prefata minus ledunt. Ye have three adversaries—he is master of them all— That is to say, the devil, the world, the flesh, and the fell; The New Guise, Now-a-days, and Nought, the world we may them call; And, prope[r]ly, Titivilly signifies the fiend of hell; The flesh, that is the unclean concupiscence of your body. These be your three ghostly enemies in whom ye have put your confidence; They brought you to Mischief to conclude your temporal glory: As it hath be showed before this worship[f]ul audience. Remember how ready I was to help you; from such I was not dangerous; Wherefore, good son! abstain from sin evermore after this! Ye may both save and spoil your soul, that is so precious: Libere velle, libere velle! God may not deny, I wis. Beware of Titivilly with his net, and of all his envious will; Of your sinful delectation that grieveth your ghostly substance: Your body is your enemy: let him not have his will. Take your leave when ye will; God send you good perseverance!

[Man]. Sith I shall depart, bless me, father! hence then I go— God send us all plenty of His great mercy!

Mer. Dominus custodi[a]t te ab omni malo! In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen! [Hic exit Mankind.

(Epilogue.)

Worship[f]ul sovereigns! I have do my property; Mankind is delivered by my several patrociny. God preserve him from all wicked captivity; And send him grace, his sensual conditions to mortify! Now for His love, that for us received His humanity, Search your conditions with due examination! Think and remember: the world is but a vanity, As it is proved daily by d[i]verse transmutation, Mankind is wretched; he hath sufficient proof; Therefore, God [keep] you all per suam misericordiam, That ye may be pleyseris with the angels above, And have to your portion vitam eternam. Amen!

Finis.

O liber, si quis cui constas forte queretur, Hyngham, quem monacho dices, super omnia consta[s].

[Reduced Facsimile of Title-page of "Nature," from copy now in the British Museum. C34,e,54.]

NATURE

A goodly Interlude of Nature, compiled by
Master HENRY MEDWALL

CHAPLAIN TO THE RIGHT REVEREND FATHER IN GOD
JOHN MORTON

SOMETIME CARDINAL AND ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY

The Names of the Players:

• Nature
• Man
• Reason
• Sensuality
• Innocency
• Worldly Affection
• Bodily Lust
• Wrath
• Envy
• Sloth
• Gluttony
• Humility
• Charity
• Abstinence
• Liberality
• Garcon
• Chastity
• Good Occupation
• Shamefacedness
• Mundus
• Patience
• Pride

Cum Privilegio

NATURE

First cometh in Mundus, and sitteth down, and saith nothing; and with him Worldly Affection, bearing a gown and cap and a girdle for Man.

Then cometh in Nature, Man, Reason, and Innocency; and Nature sitteth down and saith.

Nature. Th' almighty God that made each creature, As well in heaven as other place earthly, By His wise ordinance hath purveyed me, Nature, To be as minister, under Him immediately, For th' encheson that I should, perpetually, His creatures in such degree maintain As it hath pleased His grace for them to ordain.

To me it longeth, by natural engendure, Thing to continue that hath spirit of life; Which, nor were my help, should never endure, But suddenly perish and wax all caitiff. Atwixt th' elements, that whilom were at strife, I have suaged the old repugnance And knit them together, in manner of alliance.

Eke, I have ordained the goddess Diane, Lady of the sea and every fresh fountain, Which commonly decreaseth when she ginneth wane, And waxeth abundant when she creaseth again. Of ebb and flood she is cause certain; And reigneth, as princess, in every isle and town That with the sea is compassed environ.

I am causer of such impression As appeareth wondrous to man's sight: As of flames that, from the starry region, Seemeth to fall in times of the night; Some shoot sidelong, and some down right: Which causeth the ignorant to stand in dread That stars do fall, yet falleth there none indeed.

What needeth it to speak of things here below? As fowls, beasts, and fishes in their kind; Of trees, herbs, and stones, how they grow. In which, men sundry and many virtuous find One thing, be ye sure, and think it in your mind: No manner creature may take on him the cure Of these works, but only I, Nature.

And, plainly, there is in earth no manner thing That is not partner of my influence; I do provide, for every beast living, Of natural food always sufficience; And give them, also, a manner of prudence Whereby they may naturally ensue Thing that is delectable, and th' other eschew.

Who taught the cock his watch hours to observe, And sing of courage with shrill throat on high? Who taught the pelican her tender heart to carve For she nold suffer her birds to die? Who taught the nightingale to record, busily, Her strange entunes in silence of the night? Certes! I, Nature, and none other wight.

But if that I should clepe to memory Each strange effect, and every great marvel That I have caused, I ensure you faithfully That rather time than process should me fail. It were your pain, and to me but travail All such matters as now to bring in place; Wherefore, I let pass them till other time and space.

But, if ye covet now to know th' effect Of things natural, by true conclusion, Counsel with Aristotle, my philosopher elect; Which hath left in books of his tradition How every thing, by heavenly constellation, Is brought to effect; and, in what manner wise, As far as man's wit may naturally comprise.

Wherefore, sith God, of His great largesse Hath thus enriched me with dower of His grace, And made me, as who saith, a worldly goddess, Of duty I can no less do in this case But with heart's joy and entire solace Myself address to do His high pleasures, And to this same move all other creatures.

Enforce you, therefore, His creatures each one To honour your Maker with humble obeisance— Namely, thou man! I speak to thee alone Before all other, as chief of His creance. Think how He hath made thee this semblance; Pluck up thine heart, and hold thine head upright; And evermore have heaven in thy sight. Ovid in his book, cleped The Transformation, Among all other his fables and poesies Maketh special mention of thy creation; Showing how God wondrously gan devise When He thee made, and gave to thee th' emprise Of all this world, and feoffed thee with all As chief possessioner of things mortal. In token whereof He gave thee upright visage; And gave thee in commandment to lift thine eye Up toward heaven, only for that usage Thou shouldest know Him for thy Lord Almighty, All other beasts as things unworthy; To behold th' earth with grovelling countenance; And be subdued to thine obeisance. But, as touching the cause specially Wherefore I have ordained thee this night to appear, It is to put thee in knowledge and memory To what intent thou art ordained to be here. I let thee wit thou art a passenger That hast to do a great and long voyage, And through the world must be thy passage. Address thyself now towards this journey; For, as now thou shalt no longer here abide, Lo! here Reason to govern thee in thy way, And Sensuality upon thine other side. But Reason I depute to be thy chief guide, With Innocency that is thy tender nourice; Evermore to wean thee from th' appetite of vice.

Man. O Lord of Lords, my Lord God immortal! To Thee be honour and joy ever to endure; Whose heavenly empire shall never be final, But world without end remain stable and sure; Whom heaven and hell and earthly creature, With one assent, and all with one accord, Honoureth, praiseth, and knowledgeth for their Lord. To Thee mine head I humbly incline, Thanking Thy grace that first hast ordained me To be as a silly creature of Thine; And, after that, of Thy great bounty Thou hast me set in sovereign degree, And given me the profits of every earthly thing, As well of fruits as of beasts living; And that, that is also most precious, Thou hast me inspired with heavenly wisdom, Whereby I may do works marvellous. In every place, wheresoever I come, Of each perfection Thy grace hath lent me some; So that I know that creature nowhere Of whose virtue I am not partner. I have, as hath each other element Among other in this world, a common being; With herbs and trees continual nourishment That is sufficient to natural living; With sensual beasts I have a manner of knowing Whereby I should in good things delight, And flee the contrary of mine appetite. And, over all this, Thou hast given me virtue Surmounting all other in high perfection: That is, understanding, whereby I may aview And well discern what is to be done; Yet, for all that, have I free election [To] do what I will, be it evil or well; And am put in the hand of mine own counsel. And, in this point, I am half angelic; Unto Thy heavenly spirits almost egal; Albeit in some part I be to them unlike. For, they be ordained to endure perpetual; And I, wretched body! shall have my funeral When it pleaseth Thy grace so to provide: Man is not ordained alway here to abide. Wherefore, unto Thy sovereign and high estate, Most heavenly prince! I make mine orison Sith it hath pleased Thy noble grace algate That I, unworthy of so great renown, In this world shall have possession: Thou give me grace myself to enure As may me profit, and be to Thy pleasure.

Nature. God hath heard thy prayer, Mankind, no doubt, In all thy requests and right full petition. Now, forth thy journey! and look well about That thou be not deceived by false prodition. Let Reason thee govern in every condition; For, if thou do not to his rule incline, It will be to thy great mischief and ruin. I wot well Sensuality is to thee natural, And granted to thee in thy first creation. But, notwithstanding, it ought to be over all Subdued to Reason, and under his tuition. Thou hast now liberty, and needest no main-mission; And, if thou aband thee to passions sensual, Farewell thy liberty! thou shalt wax thrall.

Sensuality. What, lady Nature! have I none intress As well as Reason or Innocency? Think ye this, lady! a good process That they are advanced and I let go by? Ye know right well that I ought naturally, Before all other, to have of him the cure: I am the chief perfection of his nature. Alas! what could the silly body do? Or, how should it live nor were the help of me? Certes! it could not well creep nor go; At the leastwise it should neither feel here nor see, But be as other insensate bodies be; In much worse case than worms of the ground In which unneth any token of life is found. Meseemeth it should abhor him for to hear That I destrained should be in any wise, Standing that I was create to be his fere; Of all his guiding to take the enterprise: And now ye put me out of his service, And have assigned Reason to be his guide— With Innocency, his nourice, thus am I set aside. Ye clepe him lord of all beasts living; And nothing worthy, as far as I can see. For, if there be in him no manner of feeling, Nor no lively quickness, what lord is he? A lord made of clouts, or carved out of tree; And fareth as an image graved out of stone That nothing else can do but stand alone. If ye intend him to continue long In honour, or worldly felicity, He must needs follow his appetite among; And conform himself to the more part. I tell you men will have no dinty To do service or homage to a block: All the world will think it but a mock. Suffer me, therefore, to have with him a room, And to be with him as chief counsell[or]; And if he do so, I think to doom He shall reign in the world as chief governor. But, if Reason tickle him in the ear, Or bear him on hand the cow is wood, He shall never be able to do earthly good.

Nat. My friend! as I said to you before, A room shall ye have: no man saith nay; But Reason must be preferred evermore. For he can best lead him to the way Of virtue and grace, whereby he may Longest continue to God's high pleasure; To the which end God hath ordained this His creature. Content thyself now with Reason, my friend! And meddle thee no further than thou hast to do. Thou has brought many a man to a wretched end And so thou wouldst spoil His creature also. But whatsoever he say take no heed thereto Without that Reason will allow the same; For whoso doth the contrary deserveth much blame. God and I, Nature, have set thee in better case Than any creature under the firmament. Abuse not, Man! abuse not thy grace Of God Almighty that from above is sent! Thou shalt be the first that shall repent If ever thou flee Reason and sue folly, When once thou feelest the smart of misery. But, be of comfort! hardely God shall send Both ghostly aid and worldly help also; And I shall never fail, unto thy life's end, To minister unto thee as me oweth to do. Lo! yonder the world which thou must needs to: Now, shape thee thither; there is no more to say— Thy Lord and mine guide thee in thy way!

[Then Nature goeth out.

Sen. Well, lady Nature! leave ye me in this case? Shall I have of you none other comfort? By Christ! yet will I not hide my face; For, as soon as we shall to the world resort, I put no doubt he will me support. He hath been my good master many a day; And he will not see me thus cast away.

Rea. Siker thyself, man! I advise thee hardely. Be not so passionate, nor yet so furious; Thou tormentest thyself and wottest not why. No well-advised body will demean him thus; Be sure thy mind is all erroneous; Thou takest a self will and wrong opinion Which shall be thine and others confusion.

Sen. Yea, Reason! sir, ye speak like a noble man; But yet are ye taken with a point oversight. What, would ye make me stand as a lurdan, And not speak one word for mine own right? I see it well that if your lordship might, By means possible, once bring it about Yourself should be a ruler, and I but a cast-out.

Rea. A ruler? certes! and so I ought to be; And a lord also, though ye say it in scorn.

Sens. A lord! whose lord?

Rea. Thy lord.

Sens. Nay, so mote I thee! Thou liest! it may no longer be forborne; Thou camest but to-night and mayst hap go to-morn. For, if thou be as haughty as thou beginnest, Thou shalt avoid much sooner than thou weenest.

Rea. As for mine avoidance, how soon soever it be, It shall not skill as for this intent; But he that first fleeth or forsaketh me He shall have greatest occasion to repent. It shall be to his great trouble and torment That he hath left Reason, and sued his own folly, That thereby is fallen to wretched penury.

But now, as touching the honour and degree That I am ordained to, I will thou understand That Almighty God, of His grace and bounty, Of thee and such hath given me the overhand; And will that I use thee as a servant, To advise thee and reform thee when thou ginst to err; And to clepe thee homeward if thou rail too far.

And, where thou sayst thou art so necessary That man without thee can have no living, As in that point we shall not much vary: I wot thou art necessary to his being. But, be thou sure that is not the very thing That maketh him to appear so wondrous; And to be, in his nature, so noble and precious.

It is a thing that doth right far exceed All other perfections and virtues natural. For sensuality, in very deed, Is but a mean which causeth him to fall Into much folly, and maketh him bestial; So that there is no difference, in that at the least, Betwixt man and an unreasonable beast.

But this other cometh of great tenderance And spiritual love that God oweth to mankind, Whom He hath created to His own semblance; And endued with a wondrous mind Whereby he may well discern and find Sufficient difference betwixt good and bad: Which is to be left, and which is to be had.

Lo! this is it that doth him dignify; And causeth him to be reputed so excellent. And of all this the chief doer am I, Which from Heaven into earth by God am sent, Only for that cause and final intent That I should this, His creature, demean and guide For the season that he doth in this world abide.

Now, compare thy virtues and mine together, And say which is the worthier of them two.

Sens. Which is the worthier? forsooth! I trow neither; We be good fellows.

Rea. Nay, my friend, not so! Thou ought to obey me wheresoever I go.

Sens. Nay! that shall I never do; for, to-day I shall thy fellow be, look thou never so high.

And, therefore, hardely be somewhat fellow-like; Leave thy haut conceits, and take a meetly way. For shame of the world, man! let us not stick At a matter of right nought, and traverse here all day. Have me in few words, man! and hark what I say: Meddle thou in no point that belongeth to me, And I shall promise thee never to meddle with thee.

And, standing the nonage of this gentleman, On my peril take no care therefore. I shall demean it as well as I can Till he be passed forty years and more; And Reason then, if ye will undershore His crooked old age, when lusty youth is spent, Then take upon you: I hold me content.

For, trust ye me! the very truth is this: This man is put in his own liberty; And, certainly, the free choice is his Whether he will be governed by thee or by me. Let us, therefore, put it to his own jeopardy, And therein stand to his arbitrament To which of us twain he had liefer assent.

Rea. Nay, sir, not so! I know his frailty; The body is disposed for to fall Rather to the worse than the better part; But it be holpen by power supernal.

Sens. Yet, Reason! when thou hast said all, If thou see him not take his own way, Call me cut when thou meetest me another day.

Rea. For certain yet, according to mine office, I must advertise and counsel him, at the least, To haunt virtue and 'schew all vice; And therein assist him to the uttermost; And if he will algates be a beast, And take none heed to my lore and doctrine, The peril and hurt shall be his, not mine.

Inno. Sirs! I shall answer for this man, as yet That he is maiden for all such folly As should disdain nature, or dishonour it. Brought up with me, full well and tenderly, Wherefore I dare the surelier testify For Innocency, that he is yet virgin, Both for deed and eke consent of sin.

And longer will not I be of his acquaintance Than he is virtuous, and of good living; For, fleshly lust and worldly pleasance Is, with Innocency, nothing according. But, if his behaviour and daily demeaning Be of such draught as reason will allow, I shall him favour and love, as I do now.

Sens. Well spoken and wisely! now have ye all done? Or, have ye ought else to this man to say?

Rea. O, sir, yea!

Sens. Peace, no more of this disputation! Here be many fantasies to drive forth the day; That one chattereth like a pie; that other like a jay; And yet, when they both have done what they can, Maugre their teeth, I shall rule the man.

Man. O, blessed Lord! what manner strife is this Atwixt my reason and sensuality, That one meaneth well, and that other all amiss. In one is sikerness, and in tother great frailty; And both they be so annexed to me That needest I must with one of them abide. Lord, as Thou thinkest best for me, do provide!

For, I am wondrously entriked in this case, And almost brought into perplexity; Notwithstanding, thanked be Thy grace, As I did never assent, nor agree To things that should be contrarious unto Thee; Of sinful deed and thought all innocent, Subdued to Reason as his obedient.

Rea. Christ grant you therein good continuance! To be ever of the same mind and intent. But now, will ye call to your remembrance For what cause ye be hither sent? I hold it well done, and right expedient That ye were brought unto the world's presence.

Man. Be it so! in God's name I pray you go we hence!

Rea. And will ye that I shall for you declare Unto the world the cause of your coming, What is your intent, and what person ye are?

Man. Yea! I would be glad that everything Be done even after your devising.

Sens. Shall I then stand as I were tongue-tied?

Man. Yea, hardely! till Reason have said.

Rea. Sir World! it is the mind and also pleasure Of lady Nature, as she bade us to you tell, That ye accept and receive this her creature With you, for a season here to dwell; Desiring you heartily to entreat him well, With all the favour that ye can devise; Wherein ye shall do her great pleasure and service.

The World. Sirs! ye be welcome to us heartily. Your message is to us right acceptable. Be ye assured there is nothing earthly To us so joyful, nor yet so delectable, As to be acquainted with persons honourable; Namely, such as ye seem to be, Men of high honour and of great dignity.

And, as touching the message that ye have brought, Have thereof the full mind and intent; Assuring you that our busy thought Shall be to do dame Nature's commandment. And, thereunto, we will be diligent To do her pleasures in that we may; And so we would ye should to her say.

And where ye show unto me that this man Is ordained to reign here, in this empery I assent well; for, or nature began To shape the world she thought finally To ordain man therein to occupy; He to take upon him as mighty governor, Having all things subdued to his power.

Wherefore, I receive greatly his coming. Mankind, sir, heartily welcome ye be! Ye are the person, without feigning, That I have evermore desired to see: Come! let me kiss you. O, benedicite! Ye be all naked! alas, man! why thus? I make you sure it is right perilous.

Man. I thank you; but I need none other vesture; Nature hath clothed me as yet sufficiently. Guiltless of sin, and as a maiden pure, I wear on me the garment of innocency.

Inno. Yea, hardely wear that garment continually: It shall thy body sufficiently safeguard From stormy weather, my life to jeopard.

The World. Be peace, fair woman! ye are not very wise; Care ye not if this body take cold? Ye must consider this is not paradise, Nor yet so temperate by a thousandfold. Whoso liveth here, be he young or old, He must suffer both fervent cold and heat; And be out of temperance oft time in his diet.

Also, he must needs do as the world doth That intendeth any while here to reign; And follow the guise that now-a-day goeth, As far as his estate may it maintain. And who doth the contrary—I will be plain— He is abject and despised utterly; And standeth ever banished from all good company. Sith God, therefore, had ordained this body To dwell here in this earthly region, Of convenience he must himself apply To worldly things; and be of such condition As all men be; and leave each fond opinion That is not approvable of wiser men than he; To take such way it is but vanity. Take this garment! man, do as I you bid! Be not ashamed hardely to do it on. So, lo! now this girdle have gird it in the mid; And this for your head go set it upon: By the charge of me! you be a goodly one As ever I saw sith that I was born; Worth a thousand that ye were beforne. Give me your hand! be not in fear! Sit down as ye are born to occupy this place! I give you here authority and power Over all thing that conceived is, in the space Of all the earth that round is in compass, To be as lord of every region; And, thereof, I give you peaceable possession.

Man. Blessed be Thou, my Lord, most bounteous! That of Thy great abundant charity Me, Thy wretched creature, hast honoured thus With natural gifts and worldly dignity. Now, I beseech Thee, for Thy great pity, Sith Thou hast set me in so noble way, Suffer me not hereafter wretchedly to decay. For, certes! it is mine heart's desire So to demean me in this life present As may be most unto Thy pleasure, And unto nature not disconvenient. This is my will and my chief intent; This will I observe, Thy grace to borrow, Though I, therefore, suffer much worldly sorrow.

Rea. Forsooth! these words be greatly to allow If they from meek and lowly heart proceed. Now, Mankind, sith thou hast made this vow, Shape thee, thereafter, thy life to lead; And let thy word be cousin to thy deed: That is to say, do thou none otherwise Than thou here openly to God dost promise.

Inno. Yea, sir! and ever look that ye abstain, Not only from deed, but also from the assent; See that ye commit neither of them twain If ye will observe the high commandment. For, surely ye may not be cleped innocent, Nor guiltless of sin, as far as I can find, If once ye assent to folly in your mind.

Mun. This is an hard word, sister, that ye have spoken; An hard word, surely, and an heavy sentence! But think ye God's commandment broken For a light trifle and matter of insolence? Alas! have ye such a spiced conscience That will be entriked with every merry thought? Leave it, woman! leave it! For it is nought.

[Loquitur ad ho[minem].

And man! as for you, ye shall not take that way; That manner of observance is too hard and strait. Ye must attempt the world; and, therein assay Whether ye can live after that endrait. These two folk harp both on refrait; And ever enbusieth them to rebuke you of sin That never was spotted, nor found guilty therein.

Take no heed of them! their words be but wind; And, as for this time, I command them to silence. And let us see now how prately ye can find, By sage policy and worldly prudence, To maintain the state, in honour and reverence, That ye shall be in while ye in the world dwell. Speak of this matter and ponder it well!

First, meseemeth necessary to provide What manner folks your servants shall be; For, surely, ye are nothing accompanied According to a man of your degree: Ye have here with you two persons or three That pleaseth you happily, in the best wise; Yet it appeareth not so to every man's guise.

What man is this?

Man. Reason, sir! my chief counsellor; And this Innocency, my nourice hitherto; And Sensuality that other, by whom I have power To do as all sensate beasts do. But Reason and Innocency, chiefly these two, Have the whole rule and governy of me; To whom eke is subdued my Sensuality.

Sens. For certain, sir! Reason hath done me wrong; More than ever he shall be able to recompense. God knoweth, sir! I thought the season very long Till we were brought unto your presence. But now, I pray you to annul the sentence That Nature gave unto me by Reason's advice, To my great hurt and utter prejudice.

And sir! I ask none amends earthly, But that Reason may have a checkmate; A little knack, a little pretty congy, His haut courage some thing to abate. For, hitherto, he hath kept great estate; And had of me the over hand and stronger: But be not displeased! I will suffer it no longer.

Mun. Thou hast had great wrong, and that is pity; For, if thou be the person that I take thee for, Thou should'st be as honourable as he.

      *       *       *       *       *

Sens. Lord! ye say well; but would God ye would see Some manner help and remedy for this evil; And let me not alway live thus like a drivel.

Mun. Sir! ye know well that if so it were A man should suddenly come to a strange place, Wherein he is but alien and stranger, He must needs be compelled, in that case, To put himself in the favour and grace Of some singular person, that can show him the way Of all the behaviour and guise in that country.

So it is now that ye be hither sent; This country, as yet, to you unknown. In mine opinion it is expedient To take some other counsel than your own, Of well inured men, such as have grown In worldly experience, and have thereof the drift, And can best for you in time of need shift.

Homo. Certes! ye move right well and prudently; And I am well content that it so be; But, as yet, have I not the policy To know which men have most ability.

Mun. Dare ye commit the matter unto me?

Homo. Yea, sir! right well; I am fully content That all thing be done by your assignment.

Mun. Then thus I will, that above all thing, From henceforward, ye be like and conformable Unto other persons in all your demeaning; Namely, to such as be companable, Be they never so vicious or abominable; For every man clepeth him wise That doth after the common guise.

And, as for men that should do you service, I know divers persons that be right honourable That can you serve, alway point device. In all the world be there none so able, So wise, so politic, nor yet so profitable. Lo! here is one of them that I speak for; And he himself can tell you where ye shall have more.

Worldly Affection is this man's name; He is well brained, and wondrous of invention; A forecasting man and, payne of shame! Ye shall not find in any Christian region A wiser fellow in things to be done; Specially of matters that be concerning Worldly pleasure, that is for you according.

Suffer him, therefore, never to depart; But, if it be for matters of great substance, And for sensuality, I pray you with all my heart To accept him to your favour and tendrance. He hath been long of mine acquaintance; And, on my faith! my heart cannot but grudge To think that ye should use him as a drudge.

Do as he adviseth you, hardely now and then; And despise not utterly his counsel Think that ye be here a worldly man; And must do as men that in the world dwell. Ye are not bound to live like an angel; Nor to be as God, alway immutable: Man's nature of himself is full miserable.

I have told you now my counsel and advice; And ye have promised to be ruled thereby. Now, let each man execute his office; And see how wisely ye can them occupy To increase the world, and it thereto ye must apply. Now, address you thereto; and demean you thus: I shall be to you ever good and prosperous.

Man. Sir! I thank you of this courtesy, Undeserved as yet; but, be ye sure, I shall myself endeavour busily To do that may be to your pleasure. And, for the season that I shall here endure, I shall them cherish; and to my power maintain That unto you in anywise do pertain.

The Wor[ld]. Then, to begin withal, I will advise you To put this man from your company. I tell you every man will despise you As long as ye be ruled by Innocency: To follow such counsel it is but folly; For, he can neither good, neither evil; And, therefore, he is taken but for a drivel.

Man. By my faith! even as ye say: It liketh me not right well With Innocency long to dwell; Therefore, according to your counsel, I will not, after this day, With his company myself affere; As mute as it were a grey friar. I suppose there is no man here, Whatsoever he be, That could in his mind be content Always to be called an innocent. Wherefore, it is mine intent To do as ye advise me.

The World. Yea, hardely, do even so!

Inno. Forsooth, and I hold me well content To depart at your commandment, Ye shall find me obedient Whatsoever ye bid me do.

[Here Innocency goeth out.

Sens. So, the company is well amend; Let him go the devil of hell! He is but a boy, I warn you well; And, should ye follow his counsel, Almighty God defend! If ever ye lust to play the man It is time that ye now began. Marry! to play the boy, now and then, For your disport and solace, It forceth not though ye do When ye may have leisure thereto; And among I will help you also In due time and place.

The World. Yea, that ye will indeed! But now, sir! will ye anything Command me before my departing?

Man. Nothing at all, to my witting; But our Lord have you in His keeping, And send you well to speed!

[He goeth out. Mankind calls to Worldly Affection.]

Worldly Affection, come hither! ye are politic; And much better inured in this world than I. I pray you dispose for me, as ye think most like, That I may live here well and honourably.

[Wor. Affec.] Yea, sir! I shall. Doubt ye not, hardely! If it like you to put me in so great trust, And I trow ye shall find me true and just.

Man. I wot well I shall. Surely you be bound To the world that hath given you so great commendation?

[Wor. Affec.] Yea, sir! some men had liever than a thousand pound They might be commended of the same fashion. But, sir! let pass all this commendation; And answer to me, I pray you, fruitfully, In that I shall move you substantially.

Sir! at few words I you exhort, Sith that ye be come to your own, Cast yourself to bear such a port That, as ye be, ye may be known; Eke it is necessary, for that behove, That there be made some manner of purveyance Whereby ye may bear out your countenance.

Will it like you, therefore, that I survey And see th' extent of all your land, And thereupon in all thee hast purvey, Both for you and yours, all manner of viand, With other utensils ready at your hand; So that ye be purveyed all times, early and late, Of each thing that belongeth to your estate?

Man. Your counsel is good; do as ye think best; I commit all such thing to your discretion.

[Wor. Aff.] I shall do my true business, at the least To bring all things to good conclusion.

[He maketh to go out.

Man. Abide, Worldly Affection! ye made no mention Who should await and give attendance; I must have mo servants whatsoever chance.

Wor. Aff. What? ye have Sensuality! ask never other counsel Of such matter; he can you best advise. He knoweth where all such manner persons dwell As be most apt to do you worldly service.

[Then he goeth out.

Sens. Yea, on my peril, sir! I shall take the enterprise Of all such matters; and, look! where I find Any man of pleasure, on him set your mind. Lo! will ye see—lo! here cometh one; Even the last man that was in my thought.

Man. What is he?

Sens. Ye shall see anon. A well-drawn man is he; and a well-taught, That will not give his head for nought; And, thereto goodly, as ye shall see in a day As well-apparelled at each point of his array.

[Mankind goes aside.

[Pride.] Who dwelleth here? will no man speak? Is there no fool nor hoddypeak? Now, by the bell! it were alms to break Some of these knaves' brows. A gentleman comes in at the doors, That all his days hath worn gilt spurs, And none of these knaves nor cutted whores Bids him welcome to house!

Wot ye not how great a lord I am? Of how noble progeny I came? My father a knight; my mother called madame; Mine ancestors great estates. And now the livelood is to me fall By both their deaths natural: I am spoken of more than they all, Hence to Paris gates.

How say ye, sirs, by mine array? Doth it please you, yea or nay? In the best wise, I dare well say! By that ye know me awhile And one thing I put you out of doubt; I have wherewith to bear it out As well as any man hereabout Within these hundred mile.

Behold [the rest of the line, almost cut away, is indecipherable.] A staring colour of scarlet red: I promise you a fine thread And a soft wool. It cost me a noble at one pitch— The scald capper sware sithich That it cost him even as mich— But there Pride had a pull.

I love it well to have side hair Half a wote beneath mine ear; For, evermore, I stand in fear That mine neck should take cold. I knit it up all the night; And the daytime comb it down right; And then it crispeth and shineth as bright As any purled gold.

My doublet is on-laced before— A stomacher of satin and no more; Rain it, snow it never so sore, Methinketh I am too hot. Then have I such a short gown, With wide sleeves that hang a-down— They would make some lad in this town A doublet and a coat.

Some men would think that this were pride; But it is not so—ho, ho, abide! I have a dagger by my side Yet thereof spake not I. I bought this dagger at the mart, A sharp point and a tart; He that had it in his heart Were as good to die.

Then have I a sword or twain; To bear them myself it were a pain; They are so heavy that I am fain To purvey such a lad, Though I say it, a pretty boy— It is half my life's joy. He maketh me laugh with many a toy, The urchin is so mad.

I begat the whoreson in bast; It was done all in haste: Ye may see there was no waste, He occupied no great place. Sometime he serveth me at board; Sometime he beareth my two-hand sword— Come forth, thou little lick-turd! Look in thy father's face!

But, now to do that I come for, And of these things to speak no more— Hark, sirs! me longeth sore To hear some novelty. I hear say there is a great state Come into this country late; And is disposed algate An householder to be.

Father's soul, sirs! ye shall understand That, if he keep household in this land, I will thrust in on hand, Whosoever say nay. Whatsoever the man intend, To appair the world or to amend, I will be with him at that one end; Hap what hap may!

I met Worldly Affection erewhile, From this town scant a mile; And he hath showed me a pretty wile, If I may put it in ure. He tells me that Sensuality Begins a great ruler to be; And, if it be so, care not for me— The matter is cock sure!

Ay, good lord, what man is that? Father's soul! this is some great wat.

Garcon. This is he that ye seek.

Pride. See this, brat!— This boy is passing taunt— Come behind, and follow me; Set out the better leg, I warn thee!

Garcon. Yes, in the best wise trust ye me! Allez, seigneur! allez vous avant!

Pride. Salutem to you, sir!

Man. And to you also! Whence are ye?

Pride. I shall tell you or I go; But, first would I speak a word, and no mo, With this servant of yours.

Sens. With me, sir? Would ye speak with me?

Pride. Yea, fore God! are ye not Sensuality?

Sens. Yes, surely!

Pride. Yea, such a gentleman ye seem to be.

Sens. Your poor servant at all hours!

[Then Pride speaketh to Sensuality in his ear that all may hear.

Pride. Sir! I understand that this gentleman is born to great fortunes, and intendeth to inhabit herein the country. And I am a gentleman that alway hath be brought up with great estates, and affeed with them; and, if I might be in like favour with this gentleman, I would be glad thereof, and do you a pleasure.

Sens. Where is your dwelling?

Pride. I dwell hereby.

Sens. What is your name?

Pride. Pride!

Sens. Pride?

Pride. Yea, sikerly! But I am cleped Worship, commonly, In places where I dwell.

Sens. Worship, now, in faith, ye say true; Ye be radix viciorum—root of all virtue.

Pride. Yea, yea, man! ye would say so if ye me knew.

Sens. Turd! I know you well. Sir! ye are welcome, as I may say; I shall bring you in service if I may; And if one man stand not in the way.

Pride. One man? what the devil is he?

Sens. By God! one that loveth not thee, Nor me neither.

Pride. I pray thee tell me What manner of man he is, And I shall give him a lift, as I guess.

Sens. Wilt thou so, doubtless?

Pride. Yea, and that within a short process— In faith! I will not miss.

Sens. Surely I cannot spy the ways how!

Pride. Let me alone; I shall do well enow. Acquaint me with that man, and care not thou! The matter shall speed.

Sens. Hark, cousin! first speed this matter, And if yonder man make thee not good cheer As any man that ever came here Let me, therefore, be dead!

Pride. Sir! I shall tell thee how when I am in To thy master's service; I will first begin To set his heart on a merry pin, And bid him make good cheer. I will bid him think how he is create To be a worthy potestate, And eke that he is predestinate To be a prince's peer. And other things more than this: I shall bring that heart of his To be more haut than it is By a deuce ace. Specially, I will commend his wit That no man can amend it; And that he is able thereby to sit As a judge in common pleas; And when I praise him this wise I think his heart will begin to rise And after that utterly despise Any opray counsel to hear; He shall trust all to his own brain; And then would Reason never so fain, Though he come and such opry twain: He shall be never thee near.

Sens. Surely this conceit is well found! I shall bring thee in service for twenty pound.

Pride. Gramercy, brother! I think me much bound To thee for thy courtesy. But, sir! abide here one thing— I will not be known that it is my seeking.

Sens. No more would I, for forty shilling: Let me alone hardely! [Mankind comes forward.

Sens. Sir! if it please you, here is come a stranger That never was acquainted with you ere; Somewhat shamefaced, and half in fear To put himself in prese; A goodly person, be ye sure, Both of countenance and of feature If he were drawn in portraiture; And a good man, doubtless! Yea, and a wise man at all— Will it please you that I him call To speak with you?

Man. Bid him come!

Sens. I shall. Sir! will ye come near? [To Mankind. Sir! bid him welcome for the manner sake; Another day I am sure he will crake And say, such a gentleman did him make Very great cheer. Desire him for to dwell with you; I tell you he is a man for your prow, And knoweth the world well; I know No man better than he.

Man. Sir! ye be welcome to this place.

Pride. I thank you, sir! but I do you trespass To come thus homely.

Sens. Yea, a parlous case! God wot ye are welcome hither. On my faith, by my will Ye shall dwell with us still. Go near to him and talk your fill: I leave you together.

[He goeth forth.

Man. Now, sir! what have ye to say to me?

Pride. No great thing, sir! but I come to see And to know what manner man ye be That all men praiseth so much.

Man. Praise! whom praise they?

Pride. Marry, you!

Man. Me?

Pride. Yea, sir! I make mine avow They give you a praising good I know; I heard never none such. And, surely, ye be right worthy! I see well now they do not lie; And, therefore, I did me hither hie To acquaint me with you— But ye may say that I am bold.

Man. Nay, ye are worth thy weight of gold! Methinketh me to you much behold; I pray you what is your name?

Pride. My name is Worship.

Man. Worship? now, surely, The world told me it was my destiny To come to Worship or I die.

Pride. Truly, I am the same.

Man. Now, Worship, I pray you me tell Your wisdom and also counsel; Ye can advertise me passing well In things that I have to do.

Pride. In good faith! anything that I May do to your pleasure it is ready; I am your own, and pray you, heartily, That ye accept me so. But where ye ask counsel of me Meseemeth ye save not your honesty!

Man. Mine honesty? Wherefore, let see; I pray you show me why!

Pride. Marry, sir! for it is right fitting That a man of your behaving Should have alway sufficient cunning Of worldly wit and policy To guide himself everywhere; And not to be led by the ear, And beg wit, here and there, Of every Jack-a-pie. Ye are well complexioned, be ye sure; And Nature hath done on you her cure As much as upon any creature That ever I saw with mine eye. And, by likelihood, sir! I wis Ye have wit according to all this; Or else Nature hath wrought amiss: And that is not likely.

Man. Now, certain, thanked be heaven's king! I have a right quick understanding. If ye show me anything I can soon perceive it; But I was forbid by Reason On mine own fantasy to run, Or to take any presumption Of mine own wit.

Pride. Said Reason so? Marry, fie on him, knave! It were better the hangman were in his grave Than ever the lewd fool should have The governance of you.

Man. Certain, Nature advised me To follow Reason what time that she Put me first in authority That I stand in now.

Pride. Alas, alas, man! ye be mad— I see well ye be but a very lad. On my faith! I was very glad Of your first acquaintance; And now, I forthink it utterly That ever I knew you: fie, fie, fie! I heard never, certainly, Of such another chance.

Will ye draw to that fellowship? I would ye had three stripes with a whip, Even upon the bare hip, If I should you not grieve. He that would lordship enjoy, And play ever still the old boy, Meseemeth he doth but make a toy And ye will me believe.

Man. Worship! for God's sake grieve ye not.

Pride. I wis ye are but an idiot— I pray you, sir, make not me a sot; I am no trifler! I have been in honour heretoforne, Ye allow the counsel of a carl born, Before mine I have it in scorn— It is a thing I cannot bear.

Man. Whom mean ye, Reason?

Pride. Yea, that same daw!

Man. What, is he a wise man?

Pride. He is a straw Because he keeps you under awe; Ye be therein blind.

Man. And so doth he, without faining; For, hitherto, I might do nothing But after his will and bidding: And that groged my mind.

Pride. Groge, quotha! it is no marvel, hardely; It shall grieve me, certainly, As long as I am in your company To see you demeaned in that wise. Ye be now in good way; But, in faith! I like not your array; It is not the fashion that goeth now-a-day, For now there is a new guise. It is now two days agone Sith that men began this fashion, And every knave had it anon; Therefore, at this season, There is no man that setteth thereby If he love his own honesty.

Man. So seemeth, certainly, That every man is fresher than I, And I wis that is no reason.

[Here cometh in Worldly Affection and Sensuality.

Sens. Reason, quotha! no, no! But, sir! wot ye what ye shall do? Hardely let us two go To some tavern here beside. Come on! I can bring you there; And let them alone with all this gear. Care ye nothing for the matter; But, let them here abide; And ye will suffer, and let them alone, Ye shall see them devise you a new fashion That all the world shall wonder thereon.

Man. By God! that will I do goodly; But, I pray you, sirs! do your diligence For this array, and spare none expense; And, for a while, I will go hence And come again shortly.

[Here Man and Sensuality go out.

Wor. Aff. Brother Pride! now the weight Of all this matter resteth in thee.

Pride. Tush! thou shalt see me devise it even straight; It is but japes, that gear, with me. I have none other study a-days, parde! But how I may new fashions find; And, thereon, I set all my labour and mind.

Sir! Our master shall have a gown That all the gallants, in this town, Shall on the fashion wonder: It shall not be sewed but with a lace Betwixt every seam, a space Of two handful asunder.

Then a doublet of the new make; Close before, and open on the back, No sleeve upon his arm; Under that a shirt as soft as silk, And as white as any milk To keep the carcase warm.

Then shall his hosen be striped With corselets of fine velvet, sliped Down to the hard knee; And, from the knee downward, His hosen shall be freshly gard With colours two or three.

And when he is in such array— "There goeth a rutter," men will say; "A rutter, huffa gallant!" Ye shall see these fools on him gaze, And muse as it were on a maze New brought into the land.

Wor. Aff. Ha, ha, ha! now, by the Mary Virgin! This will set him on a merry pin, Even as it should be. But ever I am in great fear That Reason will whister him in the ear, And turn his mind clean from this gear: This thing feareth me!

Pride. Reason! nay, nay, hardely! He is forsaken utterly Sith I came to his company; He would not once appear. Nevertheless, for a surety, Worldly Affection, I advise thee As shortly as ever it may be For speed of the matter, To bring him shortly in acquaintance With all the company of mine affiance; And let them give continual attendance, Every man busily, After the property of his office; Then shall ye see him utterly despise Reason's counsel, on warrantise, And forsake him, utterly.

Sens. Nay, nay, sirs! care ye nothing That matter is sped well and fine.

Pride. Is it so?

Sens. Yea, by heaven king! Even as we sat together at the wine.

Wor. Aff. Thou shalt have God's blessing and mine— But is it true?

Sens. Yea, sir! by this day! Our master and Reason have made a great fray.

Pride. How so?

Sens. By my faith! we sat together At the tavern, next hereby; And, anon, who should come together But flee[r]ing Kate and Margery, She that beguiled you, parde! so prately And bare away your shirt the last morning Stead of her smock, while ye lay sleeping.

Pride. I wot whom ye mean, well I know; But that is nothing to this purpose— Tell on thy tale, for God avow!

Sens. I shall, anon, had I wiped my nose: Sir! when I spied them, anon I rose; And called them unto me by name; And, without more tarrying, anon they came; And sat down with us, and made nothing strange, As they be full courteous—ye know it well. And, anon, our master's colour began to change— Whereof it came I cannot tell; His cheer was appalled, every deal, And scant that he could speak to me one word; But start him even up and rose from the board. He said he would go lie down on a bed; And prayed me, for the manners' sake, That Margery might come hold his head Which, as he told me, began to ache. And so she hath him undertake To make him whole, in an hour or twain, Whensoever he hath any such sudden pain. What it meaneth, I wot never; But he liketh her physic so well That I trow the devil of hell Can not them two dissever! Lo! this have I done; and what trow ye more? Yet can I tell you better tiding.

Wor. Aff. What is that?

Sens. Marry! Reason, that ye two spake of before, Came even to us as we sat so drinking; And gave our master a heat, worth a hanging, Because that Margery sat on his knee, While that other whore sat talking with me. My master saw that he could have no rest, Nor never be rid of this controlling, He played the man and thought it best— And with an angry look to my seeming— Drew out his sword without more tarrying And smote Reason so on the head That I have great marvel but he be now dead.

Wor. Aff. Marry! then fill all the cups at once If this be true.

Sens. Yes, by these ten bones! I lie never a word.

Pride. Trowest thou it is no feigned strife Betwixt them two?

Sens. No, on my life! For, when they fought, I ran between And cried, "Keep peace and leave debate!" But ye would have laughed had ye seen How I departed them; and, for all that, Sometime I clapped Reason on the pate, And cried "Keep the peace," as fast as I could Till I was hoarse, I cried so loud.

Wor. Aff. But, can our master play the man now And fare with this gear?

Sens. Yea, make God avow! And, beware ye of one thing: Meddle ye no more with Margery; For, by Cock's precious body! If our master may it espy, Or have an understanding That ye use her company, I tell you he will be angry; He is so full of jealousy As ever I knew man.

Wor. Aff. Jealousy? peace, man, be still! He can thereof no manner of skill.

Sens. No! but say what ye will I am sure he can. He is now as familiar With bodily lust as ever ye were; Yea! and thereto as great a swearer. When time requires Knew I never, of his age, A man of better courage To do all manner of outrage After our desires. Sith Reason and he were thus at variance He hath be full of such dalliance; And hath called to his favour and acquaintance Your kinsmen by and by— Envy, Wrath, Gluttony, and Covetise, Sloth and Lechery become to his service; And utterly he hateth their contrariwise, And that he professeth openly.

Wor. Aff. And be these folks of his retinue?

Sens. Yea, every one, I tell you true. But, marry! their names be changed new For to blear his eye. I tell you he is a serefull man, For Reason stirreth him, now and than; And, therefore, do we what we can It is little enow, hardely! Sirra! there is first Pride, as ye wot well, The sweet darling of the devil of hell: How his name is changed ye can tell.

Wor. Aff. Yea, marry! on the best wise— Worship I ween is now his name.

Sens. Yea, by the rood! even the same. And Covetise, to eschew all blame, Doth his name disguise, And calleth himself Worldly Policy. Wrath, because he is somewhat hasty, Is called Manhood. Then is there Envy, And he is called Disdain. Gluttony, for Good Fellowship is taken; And Sloth his old name hath forsaken, And as fair a name hath he shapen As ever man could ordain— He is called Ease; right comfortable to the blood, Specially for them that lust to do no good. And, among all other, I would ye understood That Lechery is called Lust. Lo! these be fair names, parde! Both good and honest as seemeth me; As for their conditions, what they be, Ye know well!

Wor. Aff. Very just! I know their conditions on the best wise If they keep still their old guise.

Sens. Yes! that they do, on warrantise.

Wor. Aff. But yet, I have great marvel That Covetise should dwell in his company.

Sens. By my troth, lo! and so have I. But one thing I ensure you faithfully, And that I have espied well; That, hitherto, our master setteth no store By his counsel, nor his lore. Marry! when his head waxeth hoar Then shall be good season To follow Covetise and his way; Yea, time enow another day— Even so I heard our master say.

Wor. Aff. By my faith! he said but reason— But all the remanent be well retained?

Sens. Yea, be ye sure it is matter unfeigned; And wot ye who is greatly disdained With our master now?

Pride. Who?

Sens. By God! even Shamefacedness. When he shall do any such excess No shame can fear him, doubtless, I may say to you.

Pride. No! then the craft were nought. But now, sirs! well bethought, Sith the matter is hereto brought, It is time for me To go and make some provision Of garments after the new invention, As he commanded me to be done: Thereto must I see. For it is committed to my negligence; And, if he come hither while I am hence, I pray thee excuse mine absence.

Sens. Yea, and mine also!

Pride. Why, wilt thou go with me?

Sens. Will I, quod a? yea, parde! It is according for Sensuality With Pride for to go.

[Sens. and Pride go out.

Wor. Aff. Now the matter is almost in good case, After the world's mind and pleasure; There is no more but now must I compass, With all my wit and busy endeavour, How it may be stablished and continued sure. For, a little fantasy of man's own will May quail this matter, and utterly it spill. And if he vary again Of scruple imagination, Or else by the suggestion Of the foresaid Reason, One thing I am certain— He will no longer me support; And that were a shrewd crank dort. Therefore, it is best that I resort To my master's presence, And see of what demeanour he is. I am greatly to blame, I wis, For that I saw him not or this Sith he departed hence.

[He goeth out and Reason cometh in.

Rea. O good Lord! to whom shall I complain And show the sorrows of my mind? And nothing for mine own cause, certain; But only for the decay of mankind; Which now, of late, is waxen so blind That he hath despised and forsaken me, And followeth every motion of his Sensuality. What availed at the beginning That Nature committed me to his service? And charged me that, before all thing, Of all his guiding I should take th' enterprise When he lusteth not to follow mine advice, But followeth th' appetites of his sensual affection, As a brute beast that lacketh reason? And yet, notwithstanding That he doth me disdain, I will resort to him again; And do my labour and busy pain To assay if I can him refrain From such beastly living. But, first will I stand hereby, In secret manner, to espy Some token of grace in him, whereby I may discern and find That he hath any shamefacedness After his great surfeit and excess; And, if it be so, doubtless, It shall content my mind. [Reason goeth aside.

Man cometh in [followed by Wor. Affec.

Man. I say, sirs! where is Worship, can ye tell? In this place I left him last.

Wor. Aff. Sir, I warrant you he is occupied well In ordaining your garments, full fast; He departed from me in great haste For that intent; and so he desired That I would tell you when need required. He showed me his mind or he went; How he had devised your garment; And, if it be made after that intent, As he told me, When ye wear on that vestour Every man shall do your honour, As becometh a man of your haviour; And so it should be.

Man. Yea, but what will Reason say When he seeth me in that array?

Wor. Aff. Reason? Marry! let him go play To the devil of hell: Ye promised me, at the beginning, That ye would no more be under his guiding.

Man. No! but yet it were according To have therein his counsel; Man, without Reason, is but blind; And, if I should speak after my mind, I can well a difference find Betwixt man and a beast When he hath Reason in presence, And duly obeyeth his law and sentence.

Wor. Aff. Why have ye such a spiced conscience Now, within your breast, That changeth your mind so suddenly? I am sorry and ashamed, truly, On your behalf!

Man. No force, hardely! Thou leadest me all wrong; And, therefore, will I no more follow thee.

Wor. Aff. Not Worldly Affection?

Man. No, parde! Nor yet thy brother Sensuality: I have followed you too long.

Wor. Aff. Is that your mind?

Man. Yea, doubtless! And now will I seek Shamefacedness, By whom I trust I shall redress All my misdeed.

Wor. Aff. And, sith thou wilt needs to Shame bow, I pray God send thee shame enow. And yet I trust, make God avow! Once thou shalt have need To call me again to thy service.

Man. Nay, nay, on warrantise! Now, sirs! who can me advise What is best to do?

[Enter Shamefacedness.]

Shame. Sir! if ye lust to have mine acquaintance I am ready to give you attendance; Happily my service shall you advance: I am called Shamefacedness.

Man. By your troth! are ye the same?

Shame. Yea, forsooth! that is my name. Almsdeeds I can atame; And help for to repress When ye have done offence or sin; If ye will mercy and grace win With Shamefacedness ye must begin: This way must ye take.

Man. Ye be the man, without feigning, That I wished for or ye came here; And glad am I now of your coming, Praying you with heart entire When I have need thus to come near.

Shame. So will I do; ye may trust it, verily! Whensoever ye call ye shall find me ready.

He goeth out [and Reason cometh forward.]

Rea. Sir! is it your mind to do as ye say?

Man. Yea, that is it, as God me speed! Heard ye all this matter—yea or nay?

Rea. Yes, that I did, in very deed!

Man. O ghostly Reason! I have greater need Of your help than ever I had before: Help me now and I shall never forsake you more. Sith I forsook your company I have committed much folly; I am ashamed, certainly, When I think thereon. But now have I refused utterly All such manner of company; And thus have I done, verily! Of mine own motion.

Rea. Then my help shall be ready as oft as ye me call; It is my duty so for to do. And of your offences will I make no rehearsal; But whatsoever ye have done, hitherto, To me ward let it pass and go: Against God your offence is great; Of the which matter I will not long treat. But this comfort of me ye shall have: If ye be contrite, as ye pretend, God is merciable if ye lust to crave; Call for grace and soon He will it send. And be not in purpose hereafter to offend; Accustom yourself in the ways of virtue, And—be not in doubt—grace will ensue.

Man. Sir! it is my mind and intent Hereafter to be your true obedient; And never more to assent To such folly again.

Rea. And, upon that condition, I take thee unto my tuition With all heart's affection, Never to part atwain. And, for this season, Here we make an end Lest we should offend This audience; as, God defend! It were not to be done. Ye shall understand, nevertheless, That there is much more of this process; Wherein we shall do our business, And our true endeavour To show it unto you, after our guise: When my lord shall so devise I shall be at his pleasure.

Thus endeth the first part.]

THE SECOND PART.

Reason and Man come in.

Rea. I assemble the life of mortal creature To the assiege again a strong town or castle: In which there is much busy endeavour; Much worldly policy; with diligent travail, On every side, which part shall prevail By sleight of engines, or by strong power, That other to subdue and bring into danger.

In such case and manner of condition Is wretched man, here in this life earthly, While he abideth within the garrison Of the frail carcase and caronous body; Whom to impugn laboureth incessantly The world, the flesh, the enemy—these three— Him to subdue and bring into captivity.

And, for to show you what wise they us impugn, First doth the world give us an allective To covet riches and worldly renown, With other vanities that be used in this life. Next, that our flesh, which ever is in strife, Again our spirit doth provoke and excite Us to accomplish our sensual appetite.

The last of all is our great enemy; Which ever hath us in continual hatred Of old encankered malice and envy That he oweth to us, and all the kindred Of all the ancestors of whom we do succeed; Nor yet ceaseth his malice, unto this day, Us to endanger in all that he can or may. And certes! these, our said enemies, Be of their nature so mighty and so strong That hard it will be for us, in any wise, Again them war or battle to underfong; Also our garrisons and fortress to maintain long Again their engines; without spiritual grace We can not perform in no manner case. Wherefore, it is to us right behovable Busily to pray to God, that is immortal, Beseeching Him, as He is merciable, To have compassion and pity on us all; And not to suffer us any wise to fall Into such folly and utter mischance As should them grieve and do displeasance. Also, it behoveth on our part To flee all such manner of occasion As may us put in fear and jeopardy Of their displeasure, in any condition. Newfangleness, and other nice invention, We must forsake in all manner wise; And acquaint us with their contraries: Quia contraria contrariis curantur. etc. I tell this tale, sir! to you, Trusting that it be not done in waste: Ye remember, as I suppose, well enow, How it is not fully three days past Sith ye me promised, and bound it fast, From that day forth to be obedient Unto my counsel and advisement?

Man. Yea, sir! so I did, in very deed; And yet it is my mind and intent To follow the same—have ye no dread!

Rea. If ye do not, yourself shall repent; Now, fare ye well! for I must be absent As for a season; and, for your comfort, Whensoever ye call me I shall to you resort.

Then he goeth out and Sensuality cometh in.

Sens. God forbid that ever he come again! Jesu! how may ye this life endure? Meseemeth it should be to you a great pain, Sith ye be of good complexion and nature, To forbear the worldly sport and pleasure; As ye have done now a great season, And all by the foolish counsel of Reason. Where is your lusty heart become That served you so well this other day? Now, so help me God and halidom! I have great marvel how ye may Live in such misery; and, this dare I say, Without ye take some other ways, By my troth! it will shorten your days. And, though I say it, that were pity; For, by Christ! and ye were gone Many a good fellow would make great mone. [Then he weepeth.

Man. Why weep ye so?

Sens. Let me alone! It will none otherwise be. And ye saw the sorrowful countenance Of my company, your old acquaintance, That they make For your sake— I daresay ye would mone them in your mind They be so loving and so kind That I am sure If ye endure In this peevish opinion, It will be their confession There is none other remedy But, for sorrow, they shall die.

Man. Nay, God forbid they should so do!

Sens. In faith! without ye help thereto There is none other way.

Man. I will help it in all that I may And I wist by what mean.

Sens. Marry! call them to your company!

Man. By Saint John! I am content. For, I may say here to thee, Since I forsook my liberty And did to Reason assent I had never merry day; But lived under awe and dread alway, Nothing to mine intent. Another while I will me disport And to mine old company resort.

Sens. O then shall ye them comfort, And your self also. Wot ye who will be very glad?

Man. Who?

Sens. Margery!

Man. Why, was she sad?

Sens. Yea, by the mass! she was stark mad, Even for very woe When she heard tell of this chance; And, because she would live in penance Her sorrow for to quench, She hath entered into a religious place, At the Green Friars hereby.

Man. Yea, has'e? Alack, good little wench! Is it an house of strait religion?

Sens. Yea, as any that ever was bygone Sith the world stood.

Man. Be they close nuns as other be? Sens. Close, quod a? nay, nay, parde! That guise were not good— Ye must beware of that gere! Nay, all is open that they do there; As open as a goose eye!

Man. And cometh any man into their cells?

Sens. Yea, yea, God forbid else! It is free for everybody; And, beside all this, they be Ex omni gente cognite. No nation they forsake; Without it be beggars, going by the way, That have never a penny to pay For that that they do take. And yet can I beggars thither lead Where they shall, for lumps of bread, Satisfy their desire: Such drabs some there be That require none other fee, Not yet any other hire.

Man. Be they not wedded, as other folk be?

Sens. Wedded, quod a? no, so mot I thee! They will not tarry therefore; They can wed themselves alone. "Come kiss me, John;" "Gramercy, Joan!" Thus wed they evermore. And it is the more to commend; For, if the woman hap to offend, As it is their guise, A man may let her alone with sorrow And wed another whore on the morrow; Even of the same wise.

Man. Forsooth! this is a noble religion; It stirreth me to great devotion For to see that place— Canst thou bring me thither, well enow? Sens. Yea, and it were midnight, I make God avow! As dark as ever it was.

Man. But, where is Bodily Lust now?

Then cometh in Bodily Lust, with him Worldly Affection:
Sensuality standeth aside.

Bod. Lust. Marry, sir! I have seeken and sought you This three or four hours.

Man. I make God avow! Ye give shrewd attendance; All this two days I could not thee espy.

Bod. Lust. Sir! ye know well that ye and I Be never much asunder Albeit I be from you among.

Man. And now meseemeth thou hast tarried too long, Which is to me great wonder.

Bod. Lust. Wonder? yea, parde! for an hour or twain; Forth for a passing while and come again— Here is a sore matter: When was I so long absent as now? And yet I was for to seek you At the other side of the water; The place that ye wot of, parde! Understand ye what I mean?

Man. Yea, yea!

Bod. Lust. Tell me in mine ear!

Man. Quid est Latinum propter le stewys?

Bod. Lust. What! Latin? now this of the news; I heard never this ere: I trow ye begin to wax shamefaced!

Man. Nay, nay, hardely! that gear is past, Many days agone. I am as wanton as ever I was. Bod. Lust. It were alms to hang you else—by the mass!— By the hard neck bone. But will ye now go with me to a place And I shall show you the smorterst place That ever ye saw with eyes?

Man. What thing is it? young or old?

Bod. Lust. Whatever it be, it is able to be sold: It shall like you on the best wise.

Man. For my love let us some night be there, At a banket or a rare supper; And get us some wanton meat So we may have some dainty thing— Yet would I spend twenty shilling Wheresoever I it get.

Bod. Lust. Nay, nay! will ye spend a couple of crowns? And there shall no gentleman in these ten towns Be better served than ye; Nor be received more honestly, As to an house of bawdry, For a banket or a junkery, For a dish two or three.

Man. Yes! that will I spend with all mine heart.

Bod. Lust. By your leave, I will depart To make ready this gear.

Man. What! now, in all this haste?

Bod. Lust. Yea, fore God, sir! I am aghast That other knaves will come thither Before us and take up all.

Man. See thereto, I pray thee!

Bod. Lust. So I shall; Else, fie on all together! [Then goeth he out.

Wor. Aff. Now will Margery make great mone Because ye come not.

Man. Yea, let her alone! I am not her bondman, parde! She hath disappointed me or now.

Wor. Aff. Yet, on my faith, sir! and I were as you At the least I would excuse me. Send her word that ye in no wise May this night keep her promise; And, if ye do not so, She will so mourn that, as I think, Of all this night she will sleep no wink, She shall be so full of woe.

Man. Yea, on my peril! take no care; This answer will I defer and spare Till I be certain What answer Bodily Lust shall bring Of this other pretty new thing When he cometh again.

Wor. Aff. Will it please you that I go to Margery In your stead?

Man. Marry! that were merry; Wouldst thou serve me so?

Wor. Aff. Why, sir, by my troth! I mean but well.

Man. Yea, what thou meanest I can not tell, But that shall thou not do.

Wor. Aff. In good faith, sir! ye may do worse; For, while I have anything in my purse, Or any penny to spend, I will make her even such cheer As I would mine own wife if she were here; Else, God defend! Man. Yea, I thank thee for thy good will; But as for that cheer, keep it still Till I call thereon!

Wor. Aff. By God, sir! for good love I spake it; And now that I see ye will not take it I shall let it alone. [Re-enter Bodily Lust.

Man. How now? hast thou been yonder away?

Bod. Lust. Yea, sir!

Man. Et que novellys?

Bod. Lust. Je nescey. I could not speak with her No[r] with none of her folks.

Man. Not with one?

Bod. Lust. No! they be asleep everyone: All that ever dwell there.

Man. How knowest thou whether they be asleep or no?

Bod. Lust. Marry! she herself told me so When I rapped at the door.

Man. It seemeth she was not asleep then.

Bod. Lust. No! she was abed with a strange man.

Man. A mischief on her, whore! I would this fire were in her tail, I make God avow!

Bod. Lust. That needeth not; she is hot enow; It were more alms to get Some cold water her fire to quench: I tell you, it is as warm a wench As any in all this street— I supposed I had angered her ill.

Man. How so?

Bod. Lust. For I rang her a knil That waked her from her sleep; I gave her a peal for her friends' souls— A man might have heard the noise from Poules To the farthest end of Cheap. She saw that I would not cease but knock And rap still at the gate; She opened a window and put forth her head— Hence, Forty Pence! quo' she, Jack Noble is a-bed! This night ye come too late. Ah! standeth the wind so cold, quod I? K. q. tytle! we have a bry— This gear goeth all wide. And so I came thence a great pace Till I came hither; lo! this is the case— Have I not well hied?

Man. Well, man! there is no more to do; That we cannot have we must forego; There is none other remedy. Lo, Worldly Affection! now mayst thou see Thy counsel was nought that thou gavest me.

Wor. Aff. No more it was truly!

Man. Yea, I told thee as much before, It is good to be sure evermore; Therefore, now let us go And resort again to our old hostess: That is the best way now, as I guess.

Wor. Aff. Yea, hardely do so!

[Then they three go out, [Sensuality remaining,] and Pride cometh in.

Pride. Sirs! remember ye that this other day Man promised me, even in his stead, That I should with him dwell; and now, I hear say The wild worm is come into his head; So that by Reason only he is led: It may well be so; but, I am sure That Reason shall not alway with him endure. Methinketh that Sensuality doth not his part According to the duty of his office; For, nobody can better turn a man's heart, Nor yet a readier mean devise To put away such foolish fantasy, Than Sensuality if he lust to assay, For he is chief ruler when Reason is away.

Sens. [coming forward]. Yea, a ruler will I be though Reason say Nay.

Pride. Ah, Sensuality! welcome, by this day! What, tidings good?

Sens. Yea, by my fay! As good as can be told. I have brought this man to his old guise.

Pride. Hast thou so?

Sens. Yea, on warrantise!

Pride. Now, forsooth! I give thee prick and praise; Thou art worth thy weight of gold. Of this tidings I am glad and fain; But shall I be welcome to him again And all our company?

Sens. Yea, hardely! As welcome as ever ye were before.

Pride. God's blessing have thine heart, therefore; Thus am I in thy debt, more and more.

Sens. Japes! why say ye so?

Pride. For—I speak it after my mind— Thou art to me alway so kind. But, where shall I our master find? To him will I go.

Sens. He is busy—hark! in your ear— With little Margery—ye wot where? And, as soon as I had brought him there I came my way apace. And, because he should not be alone, I left with him Worldly Affection, And other errand had I none. Now to this place, But even to show you what is done; And from hence I must anon, For to seek another companion To give attendance.

Pride. Who is that?

Sens. Marry! Gluttony. Our master calleth for him busily— Sawest thou him not?

Pride. No, certainly! To my remembrance.

Sens. I must go seek him without any tarrying— But, Pride! I warn you of one thing While I think thereon: When my master and ye shall meet, In any wise see that ye him greet In the old fashion; And make as though ye know nothing Of his divers and variable dealing; Keep that in your breast. Ye cannot do him more displeasure Than thereof to make reporture; Therefore, let it rest! To speak thereof it is high treason. [Then he goeth out.

Pride. I am glad ye warn me thus in season; I shall be the better ware. By this warning I shall be wise And do as ye me advertise: Take thereof no care. [Enter Sloth.

Sloth. Will ye be wise, quod a? marry! that is a thing— By God! ye had need to have better warning Or ye bring that about.

Pride. What, brother Sloth! from whence comest thou?

Sloth. Straight from my bed, I make God avow! Mine eyes be almost out For lack of sleep—but this, sir! to you: Methought ye called me Sloth, right now; Peace, no more of that! I have a new name as well as ye.

Pride. What is that? Ease?

Sloth. Yea, parde! But it forceth not While our master is not present. Between us twain I am content Call me what ye will— But where is our master?

Pride. Wottest thou ne'er?

Sloth. No!

Pride. No more do I.

Sloth. There, there, there! Thou shalt dwell with me still; Thou art as good a waiter as I.

Pride. I shrew the better of us both, hardely! But, surely we do not well; We shall not continue with yonder man But we await better, now and than. Therefore, by my counsel, Let us twain go together To seek our master.

Sloth. But wottest thou whither We shall now go To find our master?

Pride. I shall assay. Thou shalt see me guess the way; And, happily, find him too. Now must I to the stewes, as fast as I may, To fetch this gentleman; but, sirs! I say, Can any man here tell me the way? For I came never there. Ye know the way, parde! of old; I pray thee tell me which way shall I hold— Will ye see this whoreson cuckold? I trow he cannot hear— Now it were alms to clap thee on the crown!

[Then cometh in Man and Worldly Affection.

Man. Why, be there any cuckolds in town?

Pride. Yea, I durst hold thereon my gown That there be a score; But, fore God! I cry you mercy; For, by my faith! I wist you not so nigh. Had I wist it I ensure you, faithfully, That word I would have forbore.

Man. No force, hardely! it toucheth not me— But worship! tell me, where have ye be? Methinketh long sith I you see:

Pride. Sir! it is no marvel. Bade ye not me, the last day, To go purvey for your array, And ye remember well.

Man. Yea, fore God! have ye done the same?

Pride. Yea, by the rood! else were I to blame. All thing is ready, in pain of shame, Else I quit me ill. The tailor told me yester night That all your garments were ready dight— Will ye go thither and have a sight?

Man. Yea, marry! with a good will.

Sloth. Will ye that I go with you also?

Man. I wot never whether ye may attend thereto; For ye do nothing But even after your own sweet will.

Sloth. Why should I ever wait nay that I nill? For, to be a king, I may not endure continual business. I was never used thereto; doubtless I should not live a year If I followed you, I am sure; Ye stir and labour out of measure: I saw never your peer: Ye ween there can nothing be do But if ye put your hand thereto; And I wis that is no need. Ye have servants, that be true and just, If it would like you to put them in trust, And quit well their meed. What should I attend you for to please, When I see well ye set by none ease, Which belongeth to me?

Man. Why, Ease! what meaneth thee thus to say? I do but eat, drink, sleep, and play, And none other labour, parde!

Sloth. Yea, ye may say what ye will But I can never see you idle, And quiet as ye should be. Your body laboureth as doth an hackney That beareth the burden every day, That pity it is to see; And your mind, on that other side, Is never idle, nor unoccupied. I wis it grieveth me To see you demeaned that wise: I trow ye be set all on covetise!

Man. Covetise? nay, let be! It is a thing of greater cure That sticketh in my mind, be thou sure!

Sloth. So methought, by the rood! I wist as much there was something, By your lowering cheer and your sighing, That was not all thing good— But, what is the matter? I pray you, heartily!

Man. I wis thou canst not devise the remedy With all the wit thou hast. But this is the case, to tell it shortly: A thing was told me as I came hereby How Reason purveyeth fast, And maketh very great labour and ordinance To dash us all out of countenance; And, for that purpose, He hath gathered a great company.

Sloth. What to do?

Man. I wot ne'er I. But, as I suppose, It is to bring me in captivity; And to take from me my liberty— So he hath oft said.

Pride. Fear ye that matter?

Man. Nay, never a deal! But I care for it, wit ye well, Yet am I not afraid. For I will withstand it proudly; And, sirs! I trust ye will stand thereby When it shall be need.

Pride. Yea, by the way that God went! Or he have of you his intent First shall I bleed The best blood that is in this carcase.

Man. Well, Ease! go thy way hence, apace, And make therein good speed. Call my company all together, And bid them every man come hither That is with me affeed.

Sloth. Marry, sir! that shall be do. [Then he goeth out. Man. Worship! in the meantime let us go To see my new apparel.

Pride. Will ye so? Now, for your lady's sake, Go do it on you; and I undertake It shall become you well.

Man. Worldly Affection! abide thou here For I will go do on this new gear As Worship doth me counsel.

[Then Man and Pride goeth out.

Wor. Aff. Marry, I shall! with all mine heart! This good fire and I will not depart; For very cold mine hands do smart: It maketh me woe-begone. Get me a stool! here! may ye not see? Or else a chair will it not be— Thou pild knave! I speak to thee; How long shall I stand? [Enter Gluttony.

Glut. Let him stand, with a foul evil! [The lower margin is shaved off] the devil Will ye see—lo! every drivel, Nowadays I warrant, Must command as he were a king: Let him stand on his feet with breeding.

Wor. Aff. What, Gluttony! I can tell thee one thing: In faith you will be shent!

Glut. Why?

Wor. Aff. My master hath sent Sensuality To seek thee all about the country— Spakest thou not with him?

Glut. Yes, parde! I know all his intent; And, thereupon, I am come here For to await; but wottest thou where Our master is now?

Wor. Aff. Nay, I wot ne'er; I am not very certain But Pride and he together be gone. He said he would come again, anon, Within an hour or twain. Tarry thou here, and go not away! I will go break my fast and I may, For I ate never a morsel this day. [Then he goeth out.

Glut. Marry! that is a thing: Go when thou wilt, I will abide. My stomach he shall not rule or guide That is now fasting— Nay, of all thing earthly I hate to fast; Four times a day I make repast; Or thrice as I suppose. And, when I am well fed Then get I me to a soft bed My body to repose; There take I a nap or twain. Up I go straight and to it again; Though nature be not ready, Yet have I some meat of delight, For to provoke th' appetite And make the stomach greedy. After all this needs I must Sometime follow the wanton lust

[This line is shaved off at the foot of the page.

For hot drinks and delicate refection Causeth fleshly insurrection: Ye know it as well as I. [Man entereth.

Man. Troth! as ye say, I know it well.

Glut. What gentleman is this, can ye tell?

Bod. Lust. Wottest thou never?

Glut. No, by the bell! I saw him never before.

Bod. Lust. Is it our master?

Glut. Nay, by the rood! It is not he; wouldst thou make me wood?

Man. Yes, I am the same.

Glut. I cry you mercy! I see it well now; Before, I knew you not, I make God avow! In earnest nor in game.

Man. Why? Because I have changed mine array?

Glut. For that cause, trow ye? nay, nay! That is not the thing That can deceive me, be ye sure. But, I pray you, who hath had you in cure Since my last departing?

Man. By my faith! a little season I followed the counsel and diet of Reason.

Glut. There went the hare away! His diet, quod a! it may be, verily: For ye be haltered marvellously— Altered, I would say. Alas! the while had ye no meat As long as ye were under his diet?

Man. Meat? yes, I had some, Without it were on fasting days; Then he withdrew my supper always And gave me never a crumb.

Glut. No force, hardely; why would ye then Favour him as ye did like a madman? Ye look now as it were a ghost. Had ye dwelt with him till this day Ye had been pined even away, As ye be now almost: Your flesh is gone every deal— A vengeance on the morsel That is left thereon!

Bod. Lust. Now, talk of the remedy. Glut. Marry! now must he eat and drink fast; Other remedy is there none.

Bod. Lust. Yea, but where is the meat? now let us see!

Glut. Ye are passing hasty, benedicite! First must ye go Whereas provision thereof is made; Let us go thither and it shall be had.

Man. But what is the mistress of the inn? A wedded woman or a virgin?

Glut. Neither of both, I wis!

Bod. Lust. No! but for a maiden she goeth.

Glut. Yea, fore God! that she doth; But yet she is none, by Jis!

Bod. Lust. No, no! what then?

Glut. I wis I not; but, as men clatter, They say she is innupta mater, Hardely an holy woman.

Man. Well, thither we will! go we hence!

Bod. Lust. Sir! ye will give me licence To sport me for a season?

Man. Yes, for a while ye well enow; But go not out of the way, I charge you; For hither will come, anon, All my company, as I suppose: Keep them together! for I purpose To come again anon, And show them my mind what I will do. [Then he goeth out.

Bod. Lust. Marry! I shall do what I can thereto; And yet, it is hard for me To keep them together any while. But I shall tell you what: I had liever keep as many fleas, Or wild hares in an open lese, As undertake that.

[Entereth Wrath and Envy.

Wrath. Where be these knaves that make this array?

Bod. Lust. Marry! they be gone that other way— Tell me whom ye mean.

Wrath. I trow, thou scornest!

Bod. Lust. Nay, certainly! Howsobeit, if I should not lie At the first blush, I ensure you, faithfully, I had forgot you clean; Because ye be thus defensibly arrayed. What meaneth that? are ye afraid? Who hath you grieved?

Wrath. Nay, I fear no man that beareth a head; Yet had I liever that I were dead Than that should be proved.

Bod. Lust. By my faith! ye are wont to be as bold As it were a lion of Cotswold; But now, to my question: What meaneth all this defensible array?

Wrath. Marry! Sloth warned us two this same day, Even sith it was noon, That our master and Reason should make a fray; And, therefore, he had us, without delay, To await on our captain.

Bod. Lust. Ah! now I know the matter right well; But what shall come thereof I cannot tell: It passeth my brain. Our master willed that we twain Should tarry here till he come again.

Envy. What wilt thou do then?

Bod. Lust. Who, I? nay, care not for me! I will not come where strokes be; I am not so mad a man. And I wis it is not for any fear; But it is a thing that I can well forbear, And will as long as I can. Of lust and pleasure is all my mind; It longeth to me of property and kind; And if I should to the war, And lie in mine harness, as other men do, With hunger and thirst a day or two, It should me utterly mar.

Envy. It were a great loss if thou were marred! Now, fie on the stark whoreson coward! By Cock's precious blood! It were no sin to slay such a knave. Hast not thou wages as other men have? And few of us so good; Yet wilt thou fail us at this need! Now, whosoever shall quit my meed, I will no further go Till I have slain him [with] mine own hand, Though I should forswear the land Even when I have do. [Then goeth out Bodily Lust. Hold him in, sirs! I you require— Alas! would ye not, at my desire, Do so much for me? I wis it would have done me more good To have seen the knave's heart-blood Than twenty shillings of fee. [Man returneth.

Man. What ho, sirs! what meaneth this gear? Will ye slay each other here? No more of this work!

Envy. By the heart of God! and he had abiden A little while he should never have spoken With priest nor with clerk.

Man. Who was that? Envy. Your own minion, Bodily Lust.

Man. Why, what hath he done?

Envy. Even like a lurden He saith that ye have given him licence To abide at home, and keep residence While we bear the burden, And serve you now at your need!

Man. He prayed me so, in very deed, Within these two days. He said he would serve me with a good will; But of the wars he could no skill, Nor knew thereof the ways: Howbeit I gave him thereof none answer.

Envy. No! but I am sure he will not come there; And now may ye see That no man is so much to blame As yourself.

Man. I?

Envy. Yea, by Saint Jame! No man but even ye. For, I am well assured of one thing, Ye gave him better clothing Than ye did me; And better wages and fees also; And though I said but little thereto, But suffered evermore, Yet I disdained it ever in my mind; And though[t] that ye were to me unkind To set so great store By such a knave as he was— I would I had him here, by the mass! And no man but we twain.

Man. By my troth! this is ever thy guise: Look! by whom I set any prize Him thou wilt most disdain.

Wrath. By Christ! he can do none otherwise. But now, sir! is there any service That ye will command me?

Man. Yea, marry is there! but my company Dresseth them forward, passing slowly; I trow it will not be. Manhood! thou art good I know for one.

Wrath. Yea, by Christ! and they came everyone I will not greatly fear.

Envy. By my troth! because he saith so I shall tell you what I saw him do. I was present there— Sir! it happened in Westminster Hall, Even before the judges all— His hands were bound fast; And, never upon him, that ever God made, Dagger, sword, nor knife he had. And yet, at the last, He drave twelve men into a corner; And an hour after durst they not appear. How say ye hereto? And his hands had been at liberty He would have put them in great jeopardy— It is to suppose so.

Man. Marry! there he quit him well— But where be mine other folk, can ye tell?

Then cometh in Gluttony with a cheese and a bottle.

Wrath. Marry! here cometh one— Good Fellowship meseemeth it should be.

Glut. Sirs, God speed ye!

Man. What tidings with thee?

Glut. I shall tell you anon

[A line has been shaved away at the foot of the page.]

Marry, sir! I am come here For to attend upon you; We shall a warfare it is told me.

Man. Yea, where is thy harness?

Glut. Marry! here may ye see— Here is harness enow.

Wrath. Why, hast thou none other harness but this?

Glut. What the devil harness should I miss, Without it be a bottle? Another bottle I will go purvey Lest that drink be scarce in the way; Or happily none to sell.

Wrath. Thou must have other harness than this, man!

Glut. Other harness? nay, I shrew me then! I can no skill thereon— Why, trowest thou that I will fight?

Envy. Yea, so I trow!

Glut. Nay, by God Almight! Thereof will I none; I was never wont to that gear. But I may serve to be a victualler— And thereof shall ye have store— So that I may stand out of danger Of gun shot; but I will come no near; I warn you that before!

Envy. Now, such a knave I betake to the devil! This is even such another drivel As was here whilere: They be two knaves anointed. I fear me, sir! ye shall be disappointed; I like not this gear.

Glut. O! I had forgotten, I make God avow! Sir! my fellow, Ease, commandeth me to you.

Man. Commandeth thee to me?

Glut. You to me!

Man. Me to thee!

Glut. Commandeth you to him, I would have said.

Man. Why cometh he not hither?

Glut. By God! for he is afraid; And lieth sick in his bed. He took such a conceit when he heard of this gear That for thought and very fear

[A line is shaved away at the foot of the page.]

Wrath. And he were hanged it were no reck: I pray God, the devil break his neck! And all such as he is.

Man. Well, let us suffer for awhile; I will go walk hence half a mile; And for all this, Happily, all this gear shall not need Howbeit that I doubt and dread The worst, as wise men do. Manhood! come thyself with me.

Glut. And I too, sir?

Man. Yea, parde! Wouldst thou be prayed thereto?

Then goeth out Man, Gluttony and Wrath.

Envy. Now, he that would have war or strife I pray God send him a shrewd wife; And then shall he have enow. But, I shall tell you, sirs! as for me, I am none of them; so mot I thee! I may say to you I will no such reckonings abide. God's body! here cometh Pride As crank as a peacock! As soon as he and I meet, Without he stand right upon his feet, He shall bear me a proud mock. [Pride entereth.]

Pride. What tidings, sirs? can any man tell?

Envy. Yea, marry! that can I do as well As any that was in field; Ye have tarried so long about your gay gear That the field is done or ye come there.

Pride. Done? marry, God shield!

Envy. It is done without fail; But which of them hath won the battle I cannot tell you certain.

Pride. Thou were not there it seemeth thereby!

Envy. Not I there, quod a? yes, hardely! And that to my great pain; But, as soon as the battles joined together, I came my way straight hither For to tell tidings.

Pride. What the devil tidings canst thou tell?

Envy. Marry! I can show you nothing of the battle, But of many other tidings. Ye are out of conceit, I tell you, for ever; Because ye did not you[r] endeavour At this great voyage; Insomuch that ye are like to lese, Both your office and all your fees, And put clean out of wages.

Pride. That is not true, as I suppose.

Envy. Sir! and it be not, take my nose And my head also! Your office was given or I came thence.

Pride. Marry! that was a very short sentence; And I not called thereto. Now, Envy, what counsel wilt thou give me?

Envy. By my troth, Pride! thou mayst believe me, If I were in thy case I would withdraw me for a season; Though it be neither felony, nor treason, Nor yet wilful trespass. Yet the same is worst of all; For every knave will thee call A coward to thy face.

Pride. I am unhappy, I see it well, For th' expense of mine apparel Towards this voyage, What in horses and other array, Hath compelled me for to lay All my land to mortgage. And now, when I have all do, To lose mine office and fees also For my true intent, I may say that all my cost And all my time is evil lost In service that I have spent. Well, whatsoever betide me, For a season I will hide me, After thy counsel. And, sith it will no better be, Farewell! I take my leave of thee.

Envy. Now, gentle Pride, farewell! [Exit. Alas! that I had no good fellow here To bear me company, and laugh at this gear: This game was well found.

[Sensuality entereth.

Sens. Yes, and ye lust to play the knave Some manner of company ye might have, Here within this ground.

Envy. Some I can think, young or old; And else it were a small household As any might be found.

Sens. It is not small; the company showeth well; But, methought thou were about to tell Of some merry jest, Or some merry game at my coming.

Envy. Yea, hardely! it is a game for a king, When he lusteth best, To laugh for his disport and solace. Sir! I shall tell thee this is the case: Right now, as I stood In this place, and never a man with me, In came Pride garnished as it had be One of the royal blood. It grieved me to see him so well besene; But, I have abated his courage clean, For a little season. By the rood! I have given him a checkmate; For I bare him a hand that he came too late, And that the field was done, And how his office was given away Because he failed our master that day: I made him to believe so. And when I had told him all this tale, Anon, he began to wax all pale, Full of care and woe. And now he hideth himself for shame; I gave him mine advice to the same; And so he is gone.

Sens. Now, on my faith! this was madly do! But, in faith! what moveth thee thereto?

Envy. Marry! cause had I none; But only that it is my guise When I see another man arise, Or fare better than I, Then must I chafe and fret for ire, And imagine, with all my desire, To destroy him utterly. But now, in earnest, Sensuality! Tell me when this fray shall be; I pray ye heartily!

Sens. What, against Reason?

Envy. Yea, the same!

Sens. Tush! they be agreed, in pain of shame! And good company they keep.

Envy. Agreed, quod a? in the mere name; Marry, sir! that were a game To make some of us weep.

Sens. Weep or laugh, man! so it is; And who, trow ye, is the cause of this?

Envy. Who?

Sens. Age, the devil him quell!

Envy. Why, is Age now come in place?

Sens. Yea, and that may ye spy by his face And ye mark it well. His stomach fainteth every day; His back crooketh; his head waxeth gray; His nose droppeth among; His lust is gone and all his liking; I see it well, by everything, He may not live long; And all maketh Age, as I said before. He is the doer, and what trow ye more This Age hath done?

Envy. What?

Sens. By my faith! he hath brought in Reason In such wise that, at no season, Nothing can be wrought But Reason must be called thereto: I fear me he will us all undo Within few days. As soon as Gluttony had espied All this gear, he would not abide; But went even his ways. Our master prayed him to tarry a season— Nay, nay, quoth he! now have I done; I may no longer tarry: For Age and I may not together dwell. And straightway he departed, fair and well. Bodily Lust stood by, And saw that Gluttony would needs be gone. Have with thee, Gluttony, quod he! anon, For I must go with thee. So that two be gone together; Came there none of them both hither?

Envy. Never a one, that I see!

Sens. Well, they be gone some other way To get a new master as soon as they may; They cannot be unpurveyed. And, as soon as they two were gone, Our master sent for Covetise anon, And heartily him prayed To await on him well for a year or two; And he hath promised him so to do, As for a year or twain; But Reason may not thereof know.

Envy. Reason, quod a? no, so I trow! He will that disdain; But where hath Covetise been many a day?

Sens. He dwelt with a priest, as I heard say; For he loveth well Men of the church, and they him also; And lawyers eke, when they may tend thereto, Will follow his counsel.

Envy. So men say there, as I dwell. But, Sensuality! canst thou tell, Now in this case, What were best for us to do?

Sens. Marry! I hold it best that we go Hereby, to some place, And semble together all our company; To hear their minds, by and by, And every man's opinion What shall be best for to do.

Envy. By my troth, and be it so! I hold it well done.

[Then they go forth and Reason and Man come in.

Rea. Sir! I have ofttimes you advised To live virtuously, and showed you the way; And that notwithstanding ye have me despised, And followed Sensuality many a day. Will ye so continue? yea, or nay? If ever ye purpose yourself to amend, It is time; for your life draweth fast to th' end.

Man. I cannot continue though I would; For Age hath wained me clean therefro. And yet, Reason! when ye me told Of this gear, many day ago, I thought little I should have come hereto, But had of your words great scorn and disdain. Would God that my life were to begin again!

Rea. Speak not thereof! that may not be. A thing done cannot be called again; But the thing that most feareth me, On your behalf, I tell you plain, Is that ye would in nowise abstain From sinful lusts, as I willed you to do Till now that age compelleth you thereto.

Man. That is full true, without feigning; As long as mine appetite did endure I followed my lusts in everything; Which now, by the course and law of nature, And not of my policy or good endeavour, Is taken from me for evermore: And so can I deserve no meed therefore.

But notwithstanding this mine abusion, I trust that by the help of your good advice I may be made the child of salvation.

Rea. Yes, and ye will, sir! on warrantise; So that ye utterly forsake and despise All your old servants, in will and deed, And do by my counsel.

Man. Yes, have ye no dread!

Rea. Then, my soul for yours I lay to wed; Ye shall do well—have ye no mistrust! And first, to begin with, I you forbid All manner of despair; and secondly, ye must Put to your mind and good will To be recured of your great excess; For, without your help, it cannot be, doubtless!

As in this example: if so be the patient Of himself be willing to have any remedy, It is a great furtherance to that intent So that to the precepts of physic he apply; And whoso doth the contrary, no marvel, truly, Though he miscarry. What! should I bring Any mo examples for so plain a thing?

Man. It shall be no need, as in this case; I know right well what ye mean thereby; And that will I follow, by God's grace!

Rea. Then, as I told you, it shall be no maistry Yourself to comfort, and to have good remedy Against the great surfeits that thou hast done, By which thou hast deserved endless damnation.

But do as I shall tell thee, and have no dread; And, for to give thee medicines most according Ayenst thy sores, do by my rede. Look! what disease is hot and brenning Take ever such a medicine as is cold in working; So that the contrary, in all manner of wise, Must heal his contrary, as physic doth devise.

Right so whoso lusteth from sin to arise, Where he hath in pride done any offence, He can be helpen thereof none otherwise But only by meekness: that is the recompense. Again wrath and envy, take charity and patience; Take alms deed again the sin of covetise.

And, to repress gluttony, acquaint ye with abstinence; Again foul lust of body, take chastity and continence. Much sin groweth by sloth and by idleness, And that must be eschewed by men of good business. Lo! these be preparatives, most sovereign, Against thy sores, which be mortal Unless that these medicines to them be lain. When thou hast received these preparatives all I will come again, if thou me call, And order thee further after my mind.

Man. Yea, but where shall I these preparatives find?

Rea. Thou shalt them find within thine own breast. Of thee it must come; it must be thy deed; For voluntary sacrifice pleaseth God best. Thou canst not thereof have help or meed But if this gear of thine own heart proceed.

Man. Well, I shall endeavour me to the uttermost; And till I have found them I shall never rest. But how shall I know them? that wot I ne'er; I pray you show me that before your departing.

Rea. It needeth not thereof to inquire: Thou shalt know them at the first meeting. Of two contraries there is but one learning; That is to say, when thou knowest well that one The other contrary is known anon.

Then he goeth out and Meekness cometh in.

Meekness. Whoso wotteth histories of scripture well Shall find that for pride and presumption Lucifer, which sometime was a glorious angel— For that his offence had such correction That both he, and eke many a legion Of his order—was cast down to hell By rightful Justice, perpetually there to dwell.

Remember also Adam, the first of our line, What pain he suffered for pride and disobedience! Causeth he not a great decay and ruin, In all the progeny, for the same offence? In suchwise that he, and all that were born since, Be utterly disherited and put from paradise; And so we be made thrall unto sin and vice.

And lost should we be all, of very justice, Ne had be that God of His merciful goodness Did us, soon after, with His own blood mainprize And us redeemed from pains endless; So that we do not disobey or transgress His high commandments, but demean us well After His laws while we here dwell.

And forasmuch as man's nature Is frail, and lightly to sin will assent, Either of purpose or on witting peradventure, There the said good Lord hath him sent, Again every sin, a remedy convenient. For He ne would have one soul to be lore Whom He hath dear bought, as I said before.

The root of all sin is pride, ye know well; Which is mine adversary in all that he may; Where I am in place he may not dwell. His malicious power I can right well allay; And teach every creature the remedy and way How to subdue pride; which no man can do Without that I, Meekness, must help thereto.

Man. Then your help and counsel is necessary to me: Whereof, I pray you, with all heart's affection!

Meek. All ready at hand—whosoever it be That lusteth to have me for his consolation.

Man. I myself have sinned in pride and elation: Show me your counsel what way shall I take A due satisfaction for that sin to make.

Meek. Thou must, before all thing, set little prize By thine own self; and take no heed Whether the people do thee praise or despise. Be thou meek in heart, in word, and in deed; Think not that thou wouldst any man over lead; Be soft and lowly in speech to every wight; And use none array that staring is to sight! Lo! in these three things only standeth pride If thou commit the least of them three.

Man. From this day forth I will set them aside And follow the counsel that ye give me.

Meek. Do so, and I will clearly discharge thee: As for the sin of pride, my soul for thine, Thou shalt be all whole if thou take this medicine. Then he goeth out.

Man. Yes, I shall take it; think not the contrary! Now am I well eased, yet have I not done all.

[Enter Charity.

Charity. There is no living physician, no poticary That can devise so sovereign cordial Again the sore of envy, which is mortal. No man living, I you ensure, Without my help may undertake that cure. For, I am called Charity, the salve for that sickness, Whom th' Apostle Paul commandeth singularly, In divers his epistles: I can well repress The rancour of Envy and give therein good remedy.

Man. Then is your counsel to me full necessary: If ye be Charity ye are bound, doubtless, To have some compassion of your neighbours' distress.

Char. Why, hast thou been envious before this day?

Man. Yes, as God knoweth well! and that I rue sore.

Char. Well, this must be the remedy—mark what I say: There is no sin that displeaseth God more Than doth this sin of Envy; and, therefore, If so be thou wilt thine own soul safeguard, Be thou never envious from this day forward.

Also, that sin is to man unnatural; More than any other, in mine opinion. For all other sins—mark therein well— A man committeth with some delectation; But Envy is ever full of pain and passion, And tormenteth himself with sorrowful sadness When he seeth his neighbour's prosperity or gladness. He is never glad, nor taketh any solace But at his neighbour's harm, loss, or heaviness. He speaketh sometime fair before a man's face, And yet within his heart he is full of doubleness; For, behind his back, he will never cease With slanderous words, to appair his good name; And many a-falsely doth he report for the same. Ye know, sir! whether it be thus or no; But now another while to speak of remedy. If ye will be holpen, sir! thus must ye do: First, before all things, love God entirely; Next, that thy neighbour love as thine own body; That is to say, thou must thee to him behave And do him such courtesy as thou wouldst of him have. Observe these two things: and do no more In recompense of thy great trespass, Touching the sin of envy, rehearsed before.

Man. To observe them well, God send me His grace! And I thank you for your comfort and counsel in this case: I shall myself endeavour according thereto.

Char. God send thee His grace well so to do!

`Then he goeth out [and Patience cometh in].

Patience. The remedy of wrath and outrageous ire Must needs come of me, and none otherwise. For I am called Patience, which quencheth the fire And flames of wrath: it is also my guise, By soft words and sufferance, to overcome mine enemies.

Man. Now, welcome Patience, for whom I have sought! Help me with your counsel for His love that all wrought.

Pat. This is my counsel: if thou wilt withstand Thy ghostly enemy, and this temptation, Thou must have me, Patience, ever ready at hand; Specially in suffering of worldly tribulation. Remember how Christ died, in time of His passion! There mayst thou learn how to be patient In any adversity that to thee shall be sent. And yet there may be no comparison Betwixt the least part of His pain And the greatest wrong that to thee can be done: Wherefore, thou, wretch! shouldst not disdain; But gladly thou shouldst thyself refrain From ireful passions, as I said before, Sith thou shalt have a reward in heaven therefore.

Man. It is my full mind and intent, Hereafter, to do as ye me advertise.

Pat. Now, He that all goodness to us hath sent, Send you His grace to demean you that wise! [Then he goeth out.

Man. I shall do my good will, on warrantise! Now, who can me best direct, My slothful idleness for to correct?

[Good Occupation cometh in.

Good Occupation. The sin of sloth I can well repress; And I shall teach thee to do the same.

Man. How should I do it?

Good Occ. By mean of me, Good Business, And so am I called, for that is my name. Idleness is never without sin or blame; By mean thereof much sin cometh in: For it is the very mother and mistress of sin. In eschewing thereof thou must ever use Some good occupation, in body or mind; And if thou do this my counsel refuse, So that the devil in idleness thee find, Then according to his property and kind He laboureth fast, by mean of temptation, To bring thy soul unto endless damnation. Therefore do some good occupation alway, As well with the body as with mind inward. And if thou do not this counsel obey, Thou shalt thine own soul greatly enjeopard. On that other side thou mayst be no coward, Nor fearful of penance, or other good deed, Sith thou shalt be sure to have heaven to thy meed.

Man. This counsel is good; I thank you, therefore; My mind is well eased therein, be ye sure!

Good Occ. Is there anything else that I can do more?

Man. None to my knowledge, for ye have done your cure.

Good Occ. See that ye wisely now put in ure.

Then he goeth out [and Liberality cometh in].

Man. Yes, hardely think not the contrary! Sith it is to me so behoveful and necessary.

Liberality. I am Liberality, the virtue cardinal; By whom is confounded the sin of avarice. Whosoever lusteth on me to call I am ready therein to give mine advice.

Man. Sir! I pray you, in my most hearty wise, [Help] to reform and order my mind.

Lib. First, thou must be sorry for the abusing Of temporal goods, before this day; Next, that I will advise thee, before all thing, If thou hast wrongfully taken away Any man's good, go without delay And thereof to thy power make due restitution; For erst shalt thou have of thy sin no remission.

Man. Why, trow ye that I shall not be excused By alms deed of that offence?

Lib. No, no, hardely! thou art greatly abused: Think not thereby to make recompense; For, by that alms, thou doest great offence And displeasure to God.

Man. Why say ye so? Christ Himself bade that we should alms do.

Lib. Yea, fore God! but that should be do Of well-gotten goods; else it is nought.

Man. Well, I assent gladly thereto; As in that one point I am fully taught: Wit is nothing worth till it be dear bought! But what other amends shall I make, The foul sin of avarice to suage and a-slake?

Lib. Thou must have compassion, and also be liberal Unto thy neighbour at his necessity.

Man. I trow ye would have me to give away all, And leave myself nought!

Lib. I mean not so, pardy! For that is waste and sinful prodigality. Take the midway, betwixt them two, And flee the extremities howsoever thou do. Thou must thy worldly goods so employ, In charitable deeds with due compassion, That thou mayest buy everlasting joy For the good intent of that distribution. Thou mayest also give them to thy damnation; As when thou doest it to win thereby Praising of the people, or some other vain glory. For, trust it well! thou must give a reckoning Of all the goods that come to thine use. The high Judge that knoweth all thing, To whom thou shalt thyself accuse, Without any appeal or feigned excuse ... in this case From whom thou canst not hide thy face. There shalt thou openly show and confess How that goods came to thy possession; What mind and pleasure thou had'st in riches; And why thou had'st therein such affection; What alms-deed or other good distribution; Or how thou hast these goods wasted or abused— There it shall be known: it cannot be refused. Then, as I said to thee before, Thou shalt receive after thy deserving: Joy or else pain to endure evermore.

Man. Truly this is a fearful thing!

Lib. Therefore, remember well my saying; Mark well my counsel, and follow the same.

Man. If I did not I were greatly to blame!

Then Liberality goeth out and Abstinence and Chastity come in.

Abst. The remedy of Gluttony I can well teach: I am ordained only for that intent.

Man. And I have great need of such a leech; Your counsel to me is right expedient.

Abst. Sir! if ye lust to be my patient, And take such remedy as I shall devise I shall make you whole of that sin, on warrantise!

Man. What is your name?

Abst. My name is Abstinence; And this other that cometh with me Is called Chastity, or else Continence: It is his guise, and his property, To follow me wheresoever I be; Likewise as lechery, that deadly sore, Followeth the beastly sin of gluttony evermore, Quia delicia sunt instrumenta voluptatis. But now to do that I came for. Again the sin of gluttony the remedy is this: Use scarcer diet than thou did'st before; Beware of superfluity and surfeit evermore; Take no more than sufficeth nature; Nor of delicate meat set thou no store. Now have I said all that longeth to my cure.

Chas. And I must needs confirm his saying: For, as he rehearsed now right well, Glutting of hot meats and delicate feeding Causeth sinful lusts in a man to swell; And, over that, this is my counsel: Eschew idleness before all thing If thou wilt be chaste and clean of living. Flee also the company and the occasion Of that sin, which is damnable; As soon as thou feelest any temptation Put it clean away, by means convenable. Of all other sins it is most abominable; And soonest will thy soul endanger and blame— There be so many great sins annexed to the same. If thou list not, for fear of damnation, This sin to forbear; then, on that other side, Do it for love of thine own salvation. Think what rewards in heaven doth thee abide Which, if thou live chaste, cannot be denied. My wit sufficeth not to tell and express What joy thou shalt have for thy chaste cleanness.

Man. I thank you both for your advice. And now would I speak with Repentance fain.

Abst. I can bring you to him on the best wise.

Man. Then will I await upon you twain; And after that I will come hither again, Trusting that God will send me the grace To comfort my soul with ghostly solace.

Then they go out and Reason cometh in.

Rea. I hear say, to my great joy and gladness, That according to my counsel and advice, This mortal creature doth well his business To correct and forsake all his old vice. And that he is in good way, and likely to arise From the vale of sin, which is full of darkness, Toward the contemplation of light that is endless. Lo, sirs! are not we all much behold To our Maker for this great patience. Which, notwithstanding our sins manifold Wherein we daily do Him offence, Yet of His merciful and great magnificence He doth not punish as soon as we offend, But suffereth in hope that we will amend. He suffereth a sinner sometime to endure A long life in honour and great prosperity: It is a thing that daily is put in ure. And many a great danger escapeth he Where good men perish: this may ye see; And all because that He would him win And have him to turn and forsake his sin.

[Mankind returns.

Oh, here cometh he that I look for. Sir! have ye done as I willed you to do?

Man. Yea, that have I done; and what trow ye more? I have been with Repentance also, Which from my heart shall never go; For he brought me unto Confession; And anon I was acquainted with heart's contrition. They advised and charged me to do satisfaction; And so have I done, to my best power.

Rea. Then art thou fully the child of salvation! Have good perseverance, and be not in fear; Thy ghostly enemy can put thee in no danger; And greater reward thou shalt therefore win Than he that never in his life did sin. And to the intent that thou mayest well Persevere and continue in this sure way, Or we depart hence, by my counsel, Let us by one accord together sing and pray With as humble devotion as we can or may; That we may have grace from sin thus to rise As often as we fall; and let us pray this wise.

[Then they sing some goodly ballet.

[Here follow "The Names of the Players" as given on page 42.]

[Pg 134] [Pg 135]

[THE PLAY OF WIT AND SCIENCE

Made by Master JOHN REDFORD

The Names of the Players:

• Wit
• Science
• Reason
• Experience
• Confidence
• Honest Recreation
• Study
• Diligence
• Instruction
• Tediousness
• Idleness
• Ingnorancy[1]
• Shame
• Comfort
• Quickness
• Strength
• Fame
• Riches
• Favour
• Worship

[1] Ignorancy, but see pp. 152-157]

[Reduced facsimile of the penultimate page of manuscript copy of "Wit and Science" now in the British Museum.]

THE PLAY OF WIT AND SCIENCE.

[By John Redford.]

      *       *       *       *       * Reason. Then, in remembrance of Reason, hold ye A glass of Reason, wherein behold ye Yourself to yourself. Namely, when ye Come near my daughter, Science, then see That all things be clean and trick about ye; Lest of some sluggishness she might doubt ye; This glass of Reason shall show ye all; While ye have that, ye have me, and shall. Get ye forth, now! Instruction, farewell!

Instruction. Sir, God keep ye!

Here all go out save Reason.

Rea. And ye all from peril! If any man now marvel that I Would bestow my daughter thus basely, Of truth I, Reason, am of this mind: Where parties together be inclined, By gifts of graces, to love each other, There let them join the one with the tother. This Wit such gifts of graces hath in him That maketh my daughter to wish to win him: Young, painful, tractable and capax— These be Wit's gifts which Science doth axe. And, as for her, as soon as Wit sees her, For all the world he would not then lese her. Wherefore, since they both be so meet matches To love each other, straw for the patches Of worldly muck! Science hath enough For them both to live. If Wit be through Stricken in love, as he since hath showed, I doubt not my daughter well bestowed: Th' end of his journey will prove all. If Wit hold out, no more proof can fall; And, that the better hold out he may, To refresh me soon, Wit, now, by the way, Some solace for him I will provide. An honest woman dwelleth here, beside, Whose name is called Honest Recreation; As men report, for Wit's consolation She hath no peer; if Wit were half dead, She could revive him—thus is it said. Wherefore, if money or love can hire her, To hie after Wit I will desire her. [Reason goeth out.

Confidence cometh in with a picture of Wit.

[Confidence.] Ah, sir! what time of day is't, who can tell? The day is not far past, I wot well; For I have gone fast, and yet I see I am far from whereas I would be. Well! I have day enough yet, I spy; Wherefore, or I pass hence, now must I See this same token here, a plain case, What Wit hath sent to my lady's grace. [Examines his packet. Now, will ye see a goodly picture Of Wit himself? his own image sure! Face, body, arms, legs, both limb and joint, As like him as can be, in every point; It lacketh but life. Well I can him thank; This token indeed shall make some crank; For, what with this picture so well favoured, And what with those sweet words so well savoured— Distilling from the mouth of Confidence— Shall not this appease the heart of Science? Yes! I thank God I am of that nature, Able to compass this matter sure; As ye shall see now, who list to mark it, How neatly and featly I shall work it.

[Confidence goeth out.

Wit cometh in without Instruction, with Study, etc.

[Wit.] Now, sirs! come on! which is the way now? This way or that way? Study! how say you?

[Study reflecteth.

Speak, Diligence! while he hath bethought him.

Diligence. That way, belike; most usage hath wrought him.

Study. Yea, hold your peace! Best we here now stay For Instruction; I like not that way.

Wit. Instruction, Study? I ween we have lost him.

[Instruction cometh in.

[Inst.] Indeed, full gently about ye have tossed him! What mean you, Wit, still to delight Running before thus, still out of sight; And, thereby, out of your way now quite. What do ye here except he would fight? Come back again, Wit! for, I must choose ye An easier way than this, or else lose ye. Wit. What aileth this way? Peril here is none.

Inst. But as much as your life standeth upon; Your enemy, man! lieth here before ye: Tediousness, to brain or to gore ye!

Wit. Tediousness? Doth that tyrant rest In my way now? Lord! how am I blest That occasion so near me stirs, For my dear heart's sake, to win my spurs! Sir! would ye fear me with that foul thief, With whom to meet my desire is chief?

Inst. And what would ye do, you having nought For your defence? for, though ye have caught Garments of Science upon your back, Yet weapons of Science ye do lack!

Wit. What weapons of Science should I have?

Inst. Such as all lovers of their loves crave: A token from Lady Science whereby Hope of her favour may spring, and thereby Comfort; which is the weapon doubtless That must serve you against Tediousness.

Wit. If hope or comfort may be my weapon, Then never with Tediousness me threaten; For, as for hope of my dear heart's favour— And thereby comfort—enough I gather.

Inst. Wit, hear me! Till I see Confidence Have brought some token from Lady Science, That I may feel that she favoureth you, Ye pass not this way, I tell you true.

Wit. Which way then?

Inst. A plainer way, I told ye, Out of danger from your foe to hold ye.

Wit. Instruction, hear me! Or my sweetheart Shall hear that Wit from that wretch shall start One foot, this body and all shall crack! Forth I will, sure, whatever I lack!

Dil. If ye lack weapon, sir, here is one!

Wit. Well said, Diligence, thou art alone! How say ye, sir? is not here weapon?

Inst. With that weapon your enemy never threaten; For without the return of Confidence Ye may be slain, sure, for all Diligence!

Dil. Good, sir! and Diligence, I tell you plain, Will play the man or my master be slain!

Inst. Yea, but what? saith Study no word to this?

Wit. No, sir! ye know Study's office is Meet for the chamber, not for the field— But tell me, Study, wilt thou now yield?

Study. My head acheth sore; I would we return.

Wit. Thy head ache now? I would it were burn! Come on! walking may hap to ease thee.

Inst. And will ye be gone, then, without me?

Wit. Yea, by my faith, except ye hie ye after, Reason shall know ye are but an hafter.

Exeat Wit, Study and Diligence.

Inst. Well, go your way! When your father, Reason, Heareth how ye obey me, at this season, I think he will think his daughter now May marry another man for you. When wits stand so in their own conceit, Best let them go; till pride, at his height, Turn and cast them down headlong again: And ye shall see proved by this Wit, plain. If Reason hap not to come, the rather His own destruction he will sure gather; Wherefore to Reason will I now get me, Leaving that charge whereabout he set me.

[Exeat Instruction.

Tediousness cometh in with a visor over his head.

[Tediousness.] Oh, the body of me! What caitiffs be those That will not once flee From Tediousness' nose; But thus disease me Out of my nest, When I should ease me This body to rest! That Wit, that villain, That wretch—a shame take him! It is he plain That thus bold doth make him, Without my licence To stalk by my door To that drab, Science, To wed that whore! But I defy her; And, for that drab's sake, Or Wit come nigh her, The knave's head shall ache; These bones, this mall, Shall beat him to dust Or that drab shall Once quench that knave's lust! But, ha! methinks I am not half lusty; These joints, these links, Be rough and half rusty; I must go shake them, Supple to make them! Stand back, ye wretches! Beware the fetches Of Tediousness. These caitiffs to bless, Make room, I say; Round every way— This way, that way! What cares what way? Before me, behind me, Round about wind me! Now I begin To sweat in my skin; Now am I nemble To make them tremble. Pash head! pash brain! The knaves are slain, All that I hit! Where art thou, Wit! Thou art but dead! Off goeth thy head At the first blow! Ho, ho! ho ho! [Wit speaketh at the door.

[Wit.] Study!

Study. Here, sir!

Wit. How, doth thy head ache?

Study. Yea, God wot, sir! much pain I do take!

Wit. Diligence!

Dil. Here, sir, here!

Wit. How dost thou? Doth thy stomach serve thee to fight now?

Dil. Yea, sir, with yonder wretch—a vengeance on him That threateneth you thus. Set even upon him!

Study. Upon him, Diligence? Better nay!

Dil. Better nay, Study? Why should we fray?

Study. For I am weary; my head acheth sore.

[The last three lines are, in the manuscript, scored through.]

Dil. Why, foolish Study! thou shalt do no more But aid my master with thy presence.

Wit. No more shalt thou neither, Diligence! Aid me with your presence, both you twain; And, for my love, myself shall take pain!

Study. Sir! we be ready to aid you so.

Wit. I ask no more, Study! Come then, go!

[Tediousness riseth up.

[Ted.] Why, art thou come?

Wit. Yea, wretch, to thy pain!

Ted. Then have at thee!

Wit. Have at thee, again!

[Here Wit falleth down and dieth.

[Ted.] Lie thou there! Now have at ye, caitiffs! Do ye flee, i' faith? A, whoreson thieves! By Mahound's bones! had the wretches tarried, Their necks without heads they should have carried! Yea, by Mahound's nose! might I have patted them, In twenty gobbets I should have squatted them, To teach the knaves to come near the snout Of Tediousness! Walk further about I trow, now, they will! And, as for thee, Thou wilt no more now trouble me. Yet, lest the knave be not safe enough, The whoreson shall bear me another cuff.

[Striketh him.

Now, lie still, caitiff! and take thy rest While I take mine, in mine own nest.

[Exeat Tedi[ousness].

Here cometh in Honest Recreation, Comfort, Quickness, and Strength, and go and kneel about Wit; and at the last verse raiseth him up upon his feet, and so make an end.

Give place, give place to Honest Recreation; Give place, we say now, for thy consolation.

When travels great, in matters thick, Have dulled your wits and made them sick, What medicine then your wits to quick? If ye will know, the best physick Is to give place to Honest Recreation; Give place, we say now, for thy consolation!

Where is that Wit that we seek than? Alas! he lieth here, pale and wan. Help him at once now, if we can: O Wit! how doest thou? Look up, man! O Wit, give place to Honest Recreation! Give place, we say now, for thy consolation!

After place given, let ear obey; Give an ear, O Wit! now we thee pray; Give ear to that we sing and say! Give an ear, and help will come straightway! Give an ear to Honest Recreation! Give an ear now for thy consolation!

After ear given, now give an eye! Behold! thy friends about thee lie: Recreation I, and Comfort I, Quickness am I, and Strength, hereby. Give an eye to Honest Recreation! Give an eye now for thy consolation!

After eye given, an hand give ye! Give an hand, O Wit! feel that ye see! Recreation feel! feel Comfort free! Feel Quickness here! feel Strength to thee! Give an hand to Honest Recreation! Give an hand now for thy consolation!

Upon his feet, would God he were! To raise him now we need not fear. Stay you his hands, while we him bear; Now, all at once, upright him rear! O Wit, give place to Honest Recreation! Give place, we say now, for thy consolation!

And then Honest Recreation saith as followeth:

[Honest Recreation.] Now, Wit! how do ye? Will ye be lusty?

Wit. The lustier for you needs be must I.

Hon. Rec. Be ye all whole yet, after your fall?

Wit. As ever I was, thanks to you all!

Reason cometh in, and saith as followeth:

[Rea.] Ye might thank Reason that sent them to ye; But since the[y] have done that the[y] should, do ye Send them home soon, and get ye forward!

Wit. Oh father Reason! I have had an hard Chance since ye saw me!

Rea. I wot well that. The more to blame ye, when ye would not Obey Instruction, as Reason willed ye. What marvel though Tediousness had killed ye? But let pass now, since ye are well again. Set forward again Science to attain!

Wit. Good father Reason, be not too hasty! In honest company no time waste I. I shall to your daughter all at leisure.

Rea. Yea, Wit, is that the great love ye raise her? I say, if ye love my daughter, Science, Get ye forth at once, and get ye hence!

[Here Comfort, Quickness, Strength go out.

Wit. Nay, by Saint George! they go not all yet.

Rea. No? will ye disobey Reason, Wit?

Wit. Father Reason! I pray ye, content ye! For we part not yet.

Rea. Well, Wit! I went ye Had been no such man as now I see. Farewell! [Exeat.

Hon. Rec. He is angry.

Wit. Yea, let him be! I do not pass! Come now, a bass!

Hon. Rec. Nay, sir, as for basses, From hence none passes But as in gage Of marriage.

Wit. Marry, even so! A bargain, lo!

Hon. Rec. What, without licence Of Lady Science?

Wit. Shall I tell you truth? I never loved her.

Hon. Rec. The common voice goeth That marriage ye moved her.

Wit. Promise hath she none. If we shall be one, Without mo words grant!

Hon. Rec. What, upon this sudden? Then might ye plain Bid me avaunt! Nay, let me see In honesty What ye can do To win Recreation; Upon that probation I grant thereto.

Wit. Small be my doings, But apt to all things I am, I trust.

Hon. Rec. Can ye dance than?

Wit. Even as I can. Prove me ye must.

Hon. Rec. Then, for a while, Ye must exile This garment cumbering.

Wit. Indeed, as ye say, This cumbrous array Would make Wit slumbering.

Hon. Rec. It is gay gear Of Science clear— It seemeth her array.

Wit. Whosever it were, It lieth now there! [Taketh off his gown.

Hon. Rec. Go to, my men, play!

Here they dance, and in the meanwhile Idleness cometh in and sitteth down, and when the galliard is done, Wit saith as followeth, and so falleth down in Idleness' lap.

Wit. Sweetheart, gramercys!

Hon. Rec. Why, whither now? Have ye done, since?

Wit. Yea, in faith! with weary bones ye have possessed me; Among these damsels now will I rest me.

Hon. Rec. What, there?

Wit. Yea, here; I will be so bold.

Idleness. Yea, and welcome, by him that God sold!

Hon. Rec. It is an harlot; may ye not see?

Idle. As honest a woman as ye be!

Hon. Rec. Her name is Idleness. Wit! what mean you?

Idle. Nay! what mean you to scold thus, you quean, you?

Wit. There, go to! Lo! now for the best game! While I take my ease, your tongues now frame!

Hon. Rec. Yea, Wit! by your faith, is that your fashion? Will ye leave me, Honest Recreation, For that common strumpet, Idleness, The very root of all viciousness?

Wit. She saith she is as honest as ye. Declare yourselves both now as ye be!

Hon. Rec. What would ye more for my declaration Than even my name, Honest Recreation? And what would ye more her to express Than even her name, too, Idleness— Destruction of all that with her tarry? Wherefore come away, Wit! she will mar ye!

Idle. Will I mar him, drab? thou callet, thou! When thou hast marred him already now? Callest thou thyself Honest Recreation, Ordering a poor man after this fashion, To lame him thus, and make his limbs fail, Even with the swinging there of thy tail? The devil set fire on thee! for now must I, Idleness, heal him again, I spy. I must now lull him, rock him, and frame him To his lust again, where thou didst lame him. Am I the root, sayest thou, of viciousness? Nay! thou art root of all vice, doubtless! Thou art occasion, lo! of more evil Than I, poor girl—nay, more than the devil! The devil and his dam cannot devise More devilishness than by thee doth rise! Under the name of Honest Recreation, She, lo! bringeth in her abomination! Mark her dancing, her masking, and mumming— Where more concupiscence than there coming? Her carding, her dicing, daily and nightly— Where find ye more falsehood than there? Not lightly! With lying and swearing, by no poppets; But tearing God in a thousand gobbets. As for her singing, piping and fiddling— What unthriftiness therein is twiddling! Search the taverns and ye shall hear, clear, Such bawdry as beasts would spue to hear. And yet, this is called Honest Recreation! And I, poor Idleness, abomination! But which is worst of us twain, now judge, Wit!

Wit. By'r Lady! not thou! wench! I judge yet.

Hon. Rec. No? Is your judgment such then that ye Can neither pe[r]ceive that beast, how she Goeth about to deceive you, nor yet Remember how I saved your life, Wit? Think you her meet with me to compare By whom so many wits cured are? When will she do such an act as I did, Saving your life when I you revived? And, as I saved you, so save I all That in like jeopardy chance to fall. When Tediousness to ground hath smitten them, Honest Recreation up doth quicken them With such honest pastimes, sports or games, As unto mine honest nature frames; And not, as she saith, with pastimes such As be abused little or much: For, where honest pastimes be abused, Honest Recreation is refused; Honest Recreation is present never But where honest pastimes be well used ever. But, indeed, Idleness, she is cause Of all such abuses; she, lo! draws Her sort to abuse mine honest games; And, thereby, full falsely my name defames. Under the name of Honest Recreation She bringeth in all her abomination, Destroying all wits that her embrace, As yourself shall see within short space. She will bring you to shameful end, Wit, Except the sooner from her ye flit. Wherefore, come away, Wit, out of her paws! Hence, drab! let him go out of thy claws!

Idle. Will ye get ye hence? or, by the mace! These claws shall claw you by your drab's face!

Hon. Rec. Ye shall not need; since Wit lieth as one That neither heareth nor seeth, I am gone. [Exeat.

Idle. Yea, so? farewell! And well fare thou, tongue! Of a short peal, this peal was well rung, To ring her hence, and him fast asleep, As full of sloth as the knave can creep! How, Wit! awake! How doth my baby? Neque vox neque sensus, by'r Lady! A meet man for Idleness, no doubt. Hark, my pig! how the knave doth rout! Well, while he sleepeth in Idleness' lap, Idleness' mark on him shall I clap. Some say that Idleness cannot wark; But those that so say, now let them mark! I trow they shall see that Idleness Can set herself about some business; Or, at the least, ye shall see her tried, Neither idle, nor well occupied. [She marketh Wit. Lo, sir! yet ye lack another toy! Where is my whistle to call my boy?

Here she whistleth, and Ingnorancy cometh in.

[Ingnorancy.] I come! I come!

Idle. Come on, ye fool! All this day or ye can come to school?

Ingn. Um! mother will not let me come.

Idle. I would thy mother had kissed thy bum! She will never let thee thrive, I trow! Come on, goose! Now, lo! men shall know That Idleness can do somewhat, yea! And play the schoolmistress, too, if need be. Mark what doctrine by Idleness comes! Say thy lesson, fool!

Ingn. Upon my thumbs?

Idle. Yea, upon thy thumbs: is not there thy name?

Ingn. Yeas.

Idle. Go too, then; spell me that same! Where was thou born?

Ingn. Chwas i-bore in England, mother said.

Idle. In Ingland?

Ingn. Yea!

Idle. And what's half Ingland? Here's Ing; and here's land. What's 'tis?

Ingn. What's 'tis?

Idle. What's 'tis? whoreson! what's 'tis? Here's Ing; and here's land. What's 'tis?

Ingn. 'Tis my thumb.

Idle. Thy thumb? Ing, whoreson! Ing, Ing!

Ingn. Ing, Ing, Ing, Ing!

Idle. Forth! Shall I beat thy narse, now?

Ingn. Um-m-m—

Idle. Shall I not beat thy narse, now?

Ingn. Um-um-um—

Idle. Say no, fool! say no.

Ingn. Noo, noo, noo, noo, noo!

Idle. Go to, put together! Ing!

Ingn. Ing.

Idle. No!

Ingn. Noo.

Idle. Forth now! What saith the dog?

Ingn. Dog bark.

Idle. Dog bark? Dog ran, whoreson! dog ran!

Ingn. Dog ran, whoreson! dog ran, dog ran!

Idle. Put together: Ing!

Ingn. Ing.

Idle. No!

Ingn. Noo.

Idle. Ran!

Ingn. Ran.

Idle. Forth now; what saith the goose?

Ingn. Lag! lag!

Idle. His, whoreson! his!

Ingn. His, his-s-s-s-s!

Idle. Go to, put together: Ing.

Ingn. Ing.

Idle. No.

Ingn. Noo.

Idle. Ran.

Ingn. Ran.

Idle. Hys.

Ingn. His-s-s-s-s-s-s.

Idle. Now, who is a good boy?

Ingn. I, I, I! I, I, I!

Idle. Go to, put together: Ing.

Ingn. Ing.

Idle. No.

Ingn. Noo.

Idle. Ran.

Ingn. Ran.

Idle. His.

Ingn. His-s-s-s-s-s-s.

Idle. I.

Ingn. I.

Idle. Ing-no-ran-his-I.

Ingn. Ing-no-ran-his-s-s-s.

Idle. I.

Ingn. I.

Idle. Ing.

Ingn. Ing.

Idle. Foorth!

Ingn. His-s-s-s.

Idle. Yea, no, whoreson! no!

Ingn. Noo, noo, noo, noo.

Idle. Ing-no.

Ingn. Ing-noo.

Idle. Forth now!

Ingn. His-s-s-s-s.

Idle. Yet again; ran, whoreson! ran, ran!

Ingn. Ran, whoreson, ran, ran.

Idle. Ran, say!

Ingn. Ran-say.

Idle. Ran, whoreson!

Ingn. Ran, whoreson.

Idle. Ran.

Ingn. Ran.

Idle. Ing-no-ran.

Ingn. Ing-no-ran.

Idle. Foorth, now! What said the goose?

Ingn. Dog bark.

Idle. Dog bark? His, whoreson! his-s-s-s-s-s.

Ingn. His-s-s-s-s-s.

Idle. I: Ing-no-ran-his-I.

Ingn. Ing-no-ran-his-I-s-s-s.

Idle. I.

Ingn. I.

Idle. How sayest, now, fool? Is not there thy name?

Ingn. Yea.

Idle. Well then; can me that same! What hast thou learned?

Ingn. Ich cannot tell.

Idle. Ich cannot tell—thou sayest even very well! For, if thou couldst tell, then had not I well Taught thee thy lesson which must be taught; To tell all, when thou canst tell right naught.

Ingn. Ich can my lesson.

Idle. Yea; and, therefore, Shalt have a new coat, by God I swore!

Ingn. A new coat?

Idle. Yea, a new coat, by-and-by. Off with this old coat! a new coat, cry!

Ingn. A new coat, a new coat! a new coat!

Idle. Peace! whoreson fool! Wilt thou wake him now? Unbutton thy coat, fool! Canst thou do nothing?

Ingn. I note how choold be.

Idle. I note how choold be! A fool betide thee! So wisely it speaketh; come on, now! when? Put back thine arm, fool!

[Taketh off Ingnorancy's coat.

Ingn. Put back?

Idle. So, lo! now let me see how this gear Will trim this gentleman that lieth here. Ah! God save it! so sweetly it doth sleep! While on your back this gay coat can creep, As feat as can be for this one arm.

[Putteth Wit's gown on Ingnorancy.

Ingn. Oh! cham a-cold.

Idle. Hold, fool! keep thee warm! And, come hither! hold this head here! soft now, for waking! Ye shall see one here brought in such taking That he shall soon scantily know himself. Here is a coat as fit for this elf As it had been made even for this body!

[Putteth Ingnorancy's coat on Wit.

So! It beginneth to look like a noddie!

Ingn. Um-m-m-m—

Idle. What ailest now, fool?

Ingn. New coat is gone!

Idle. And why is it gone?

Ingn. 'Twool not bide on.

Idle. 'Twool not bide on? 'Twould if it could! But marvel it were that it should— Science['s] garment on Ingnorancy['s] back! But now, let's see, sir! what do ye lack? Nothing but even to buckle here this throat, So well this Wit becometh a fool's coat!

Ingn. He is I, now!

Idle. Yea; how likest him now? Is he not a fool as well as thou?

Ingn. Yeas!

Idle. Well, then, one fool keep another! Give me this, and take thou that, brother!

Ingn. Um-m—

Idle. Pike thee home, go!

Ingn. Chill go tell my moother! [Exit.

Idle. Yea, do! But yet, to take my leave of my dear, lo! With a skip or twain, here lo! and here lo! And, here again! and now, this heel To bless his weak brain! Now are ye weel, By virtue of Idleness' blessing tool, Conjured from Wit unto a stark fool! [Exit Idleness.

Confidence cometh in with a sword by his side; and sayeth as followeth:

[Confidence.] I seek and seek, as one on no ground Can rest; but, like a masterless hound, Wandering all about seeking his master. Alas, gentle Wit! I fear the faster That my true service cleaveth unto thee, The slacker thy mind cleaveth unto me; I have done thy message, in such sort, That I not only, for thy comfort, To vanquish thine enemy have brought here A sword of comfort from thy love dear; But also, further, I have so inclined her That, upon my words, she hath assigned her, In her own person, half-way to meet thee: And, hitherward, she came for to greet thee. And sure, except she be turned again, Hither will she come or be long, plain, To seek to meet thee here in this coast. But now, alas! thyself thou hast lost; Or, at the least, thou wilt not be found. Alas! gentle Wit, how dost thou wound Thy trusty and true servant, Confidence, To lese my credence to Lady Science? Thou lesest me, too; for if I cannot Find thee shortly, longer live I may not; But shortly get me even into a corner And die for sorrow through such a scorner! [Exit.

Here they [Fame, Favour, Riches, and Worship] come in with viols.

Fame. Come, sirs! let us not disdain to do That the World hath appointed us to.

Favour. Since, to serve Science, the World hath sent us, As the World willeth us, let us content us.

Riches. Content us we may, since we be assigned To the fairest lady that liveth, in my mind!

Worship. Then, let us not stay here mute and mum; But taste we these instruments till she come.

Here the[y] sing "Exceeding Measure."

Exceeding measure, with pains continual, Languishing in absence, alas! what shall I do? Unfortunate wretch! devoid of joys all, Sighs upon sighs redoubling my woe; And tears down falling from mine eyes too. Beauty with truth so doth me constrain Ever to serve where I may not attain!

Truth bindeth me ever to be true, Howso that fortune favoureth my chance. During my life none other but you Of my true heart shall have the governance! O, good sweet heart! have you remembrance Now, of your own, which for no smart Exile shall you from my true heart!

[Experience and Science entereth while they sing.]

Experience. Daughter, what meaneth that ye did not sing?

Science. Oh mother, for here remaineth a thing! Friends! we thank you for these your pleasures, Taken on us as chance to us measures.

Wor. Lady! these our pleasures, and persons, too, Are sent to you, you service to do.

Fame. Lady Science! to set forth your name The World, to wait on you, hath sent me, Fame.

Fav. Lady Science! for your virtues most plenty The World, to cherish you, Favour hath sent ye.

Rich. Lady Science! for your benefits known The World, to maintain you, Riches hath thrown.

Wor. And as the World hath sent you these three, So he sendeth me, Worship, to advance your degree.

Sci. I thank thee, World! but, chiefly, God be praised! That, in the World, such love to Science hath raised! But yet, to tell you plain, ye four are such As Science looketh for, little nor much; For being, as I am, a lone woman, Need of your service I neither have nor can. But, thanking the World, and you, for your pain, I send ye to the World even now again!

Wor. Why, lady! set ye no more store by me, Worship? Ye set nought by yourself, I see!

Fame. She setteth nought by Fame; whereby I spy her— She careth not what the World sayeth by her.

Fav. She setteth nought by Favour; whereby I try her— She careth not what the World sayeth or doeth by her.

Rich. She setteth nought by Riches; which doth show She careth not for the World. Come, let us go!

[Fame, Favour, Riches, and Worship go out.

Sci. Indeed, small cause given to care for the World's favouring, Seeing the wits of [the] World be so wavering!

Exp. What is the matter, daughter, that ye Be so sad? Open your mind to me.

Sci. My marvel is no less, my good mother, Than my grief is great, to see, of all other, The proud scorn of Wit, son to Dame Nature, Who sent me a picture of his stature, With all the shape of himself there opening: His amorous love thereby betokening, Borne toward me in abundant fashion; And also, further, to make right relation Of this his love, he put in commission Such a messenger as no suspicion Could grow, in me, of him—Confidence.

Exp. Um!

Sci. Who, I ensure ye, with such vehemence, And faithful behaviour in his moving, Set forth the pith of his master's loving That no living creature could conjecte But that pure love did that Wit direct.

Exp. So?

Sci. Now, this being since the space Of three times sending from place to place, Between Wit and his man, I hear no more Neither of Wit, nor his love so sore! How think you by this, my own dear mother?

Exp. Daughter! in this I can think none other But that it is true—this proverb old: Hasty love is soon hot, and soon cold! Take heed, daughter! how you put your trust To light lovers, too hot at the first! For had this love of Wit been grounded, And on a sure foundation founded, Little void time would have been between ye But that this Wit would have sent or seen ye.

Sci. I think so.

Exp. Yea; think ye so or no, Your mother, Experience, proof shall show That Wit hath set his love, I dare say— And make ye warrantise!—another way.

[Wit cometh before.

[Wit.] But your warrantise warrant no troth! Fair lady! I pray you be not wroth Till you hear more; for, dear Lady Science! Had your lover, Wit—yea, or Confidence, His man—been in health all this time spent, Long or this time Wit had come or sent; But the truth is, they have been both sick, Wit and his man: yea, and with pains thick Both stayed by the way, so that your lover Could neither come nor send by none other. Wherefore blame not him, but chance of sickness!

Sci. Who is this?

Exp. Ingnorancy, or his likeness.

Sci. What, the common fool?

Exp. It is much like him.

Sci. By my sooth! his tongue serveth him now trim. What sayest thou, Ingnorancy? Speak again!

Wit. Nay, lady! I am not Ingnorancy, plain, But I am your own dear lover, Wit, That hath long loved you, and loveth you yet; Wherefore I pray thee now, my own sweeting! Let me have a kiss at this our meeting.

Sci. Yea, so ye shall, anon, but not yet. Ah, sir! this fool here hath got some wit. Fall you to kissing, sir, now-a-days? Your mother shall charm you; go your ways!

Wit. What needeth all this, my love of long grown? Will ye be so strange to me, your own? Your acquaintance to me was thought easy; But now your words make my heart all queasy, Your darts at me so strangely be shot.

Sci. Hear ye what terms this fool here hath got?

Wit. Well, I perceive my foolishness now; Indeed, ladies no dastards allow; I will be bold with my own darling! Come now, a bass, my own proper sparling!

Sci. What wilt thou, arrant fool?

Wit. Nay, by the mass! I will have a bass or I hence pass!

Sci. What wilt thou, arrant fool? Hence, fool, I say!

Wit. What! nothing but fool, and fool, all this day? By the mass, madam! ye can no good.

Sci. Art a-swearing, too? Now, by my hood! Your foolish knave's breech six stripes shall bear!

Wit. Yea, God's bones! fool and knave too? be ye there? By the mass, call me fool once again, And thou shalt sure call a blow or twain!

Exp. Come away, daughter! the fool is mad.

Wit. Nay, nor yet neither hence ye shall gad! We will gree better, or ye pass hence. I pray thee now, good sweet Lady Science! All this strange manner now hide and cover, And play the goodfellow with thy lover!

Sci. What good-fellowship would ye of me, Whom ye know not, neither yet I know ye?

Wit. Know ye not me?

Sci. No! how should I know ye?

Wit. Doth not my picture my person show ye?

Sci. Your picture?

Wit. Yea, my picture, lady! That ye spake of. Who sent it but I?

Sci. If that be your picture, then shall we Soon see how you and your picture agree. Lo, here! the picture that I named is this.

Wit. Yea, marry! mine own likeness this is. You having this, lady! and so loth To know me, which this so plain showeth?

Sci. Why, you are nothing like, in mine eye.

Wit. No? How say ye? [To Experience.

Exp. As she saith, so say I.

Wit. By the mass, then are ye both stark blind! What difference between this and this can ye find?

Exp. Marry, this is fair, pleasant, and goodly; And ye are foul, displeasant, and ugly.

Wit. Marry, avaunt, thou foul ugly whore!

Sci. So, lo! now I perceive ye more and more.

Wit. What! perceive you me as ye would make me A natural fool?

Sci. Nay, ye mistake me; I take ye for no fool natural, But I take ye thus—shall I tell all?

Wit. Yea, marry! tell me your mind, I pray ye, Whereto I shall trust. No more delay ye!

Sci. I take ye for no natural fool, Brought up among the innocents' school; But for a naughty, vicious fool, Brought up with Idleness in her school: Of all arrogant fools thou art one!

Wit. Yea, God's body!

Exp. Come, let us be gone! [The two go out.

Wit. My sword! is it gone? A vengeance on them! Be they gone, too, and their heads upon them? But, proud queans! the devil go with you both! Not one point of courtesy in them goeth. A man is well at ease by suit to pain him For such a drab, that so doth disdain him! So mocked, so louted, so made a sot— Never was I erst, since I was begot! Am I so foul as those drabs would make me? Where is my glass that Reason did take me? Now shall this glass of Reason soon try me As fair as those drabs that so doth belie me. Ha! God's soul! what have we here? a devil? This glass, I see well, hath been kept evil. God's soul! a fool, a fool, by the mass! What—a very vengeance!—aileth this glass? Other this glass is shamefully spotted, Or else am I too shamefully blotted! Nay, by God's arms! I am so, no doubt! How look their faces here round about? All fair and clear they, everyone; And I, by the mass, a fool alone, Decked, by God's bones, like a very ass! Ignorance['s] coat, hood, ears—yea, by the mass!— Cockscomb and all; I lack but a bauble! And as for this face it is abominable; As black as the devil! God, for His passion! Where have I been rayed after this fashion? This same is Idleness—a shame take her! This same is her work—the devil in hell rake her! The whore hath shamed me forever, I trow! I trow? Nay, verily, I know! Now it is so, the stark fool I play Before all people; now see it I may. Every man I see laugh me to scorn; Alas, alas! that ever I was born! It was not for nought, now well I see, That those two ladies disdained me. Alas! Lady Science, of all other— How have I railed on her and her mother! Alas! that lady I have now lost Whom all the world loveth and honoureth most! Alas! from Reason had I not varied, Lady Science or this I had married; And those four gifts which the World gave her I had won, too, had I kept her favour; Where now, instead of that lady bright With all those gallants seen in my sight— Favour, Riches, yea, Worship and Fame— I have won Hatred, Beggary and Open Shame!

Shame cometh in with a whip. [Reason followeth him.]

Wit. Out upon thee, Shame! what doest thou here?

Rea. Marry! I, Reason, bade him here appear. Upon him, Shame! with stripes enow smitten, While I rehearse his faults herein written! First, he hath broken his promise formerly Made to me, Reason, my daughter to marry; Next, he hath broken his promise promised To obey Instruction, and him despised; Thirdly, my daughter Science to reprove, Upon Idleness he hath set his love; Fourthly, he hath followed Idleness' school Till she hath made him a very stark fool; Lastly, offending both God and man, Swearing great oaths as any man can, He hath abused himself, to the great shame Of all his kindred, and loss of his good name. Wherefore, spare him not, Shame! beat him well there! He hath deserved more than he can bear.

[Wit kneeleth down.

[Wit.] Oh father Reason, be good unto me! Alas! these stripes of Shame will undo me!

Rea. Be still awhile, Shame! Wit, what sayest thou?

Wit. Oh sir! forgive me, I beseech you!

Rea. If I forgive thee thy punishment, Wilt thou then follow thy first intent And promise made, my daughter to marry?

Wit. Oh sir! I am not worthy to carry The dust out where your daughter should sit.

Rea. I wot well that; but if I admit Thee, unworthy, again to her wooer, Wilt thou then follow thy suit unto her?

Wit. Yea, sir! I promise you, while life endureth.

Rea. Come near, masters! here is one ensureth

Here cometh Instruction, Study, and Diligence in.

In words to become an honest man! Take him, Instruction; do what ye can!

Inst. What, to the purpose he went before?

Rea. Yea to my daughter prove him once more! Take him, and trim him in new apparel, And give that to Shame there to his farewell!

Inst. Come on your way, Wit! be of good cheer! After stormy clouds cometh weather clear.

[Instruction, Study, Wit and Diligence go out.

Rea. Who list to mark now this chance here done, May see what Wit is without Reason. What was this Wit better than an ass Being from Reason strayed, as he was? But, let pass now! since he is well punished; And thereby, I trust, meetly well monished. Yea, and I like him never the worse, I, Though Shame hath handled him shamefully; For like as if Wit had proudly bent him To resist Shame, to make Shame absent him, I would have thought then that Wit had been— As the saying is, and daily seen— Past Shame once, and past all amendment: So contrary, since he did relent To Shame, when Shame punished him even ill, I have, I say, good hope in him still. I think, as I thought—if join they can— My daughter well bestowed on this man. But all the doubt now is to think how My daughter taketh this; for I may tell you I think she knew this Wit even as well As she seemed here to know him no deal, For lack of knowledge in Science there is none; Wherefore, she knew him, and thereupon His misbehaviour perchance even striking Her heart against him, she—now misliking, As women oft-times will be hard-hearted— Will be the stranger to be reverted. This must I help; Reason must now walk, On Wit's part with my Science to talk. A near way to her know I, whereby My son's coming prevent now must I. Perchance, I may bring my daughter hither; If so, I doubt not to join them together

[Exeat Reason.

Confidence cometh in.

[Conf.] I thank God, yet at last I have found him; I was afraid some mischance had drowned him, My master, Wit, with whom I have spoken; Yea, and delivered token for token, And have another to Science again— A heart of gold, signifying, plain, That Science hath won Wit's heart forever— Whereby, I trust, by my good endeavour, To that good lady, so sweet and so sortly, A marriage between them ye shall see shortly.

[Confidence exeat.

Instruction cometh in with Wit, Study, and Diligence.

[Inst.] Lo, sir! now ye be entered again Toward that passage where doth remain Tediousness, your mortal enemy; Now may ye choose whether ye will try Your hands again on that tyrant stout, Or else walking a little about.

Wit. Nay; for God's passion, sir, let me meet him! Ye see I am able now for to greet him: This sword of comfort, sent from my love, Upon her enemy needs must I prove!

Inst. Then, forth there! and turn on your right hand Up that mount, before ye shall see stand. But hear ye! If your enemy chance to rise, Follow my counsel in anywise; Let Study and Diligence flee their touch— The stroke of Tediousness—and then couch Themselves, as I told ye: ye wot how.

Wit. Yea, sir! for that how, mark the proof now!

Inst. To mark it, indeed, here will I abide, To see what chance of them will betide; For here cometh the pith, lo! of this journey. That mountain, before which they must assay, Is called in Latin Mons Parnassus; Which mountain, as old authors discuss, Who attaineth once to sleep on that mount, Lady Science his own he may count. But or he come there ye shall see fought A fight with no less policy wrought Than strength, I trow, if that may be praised.

Ted. Oh! ho! ho!

Inst. Hark!

Ted. [entering]. Out, ye caitiffs!

Inst. The fiend is raised!

Ted. Out, ye villains! be ye come again? Have at ye, wretches!

Wit. Flee, sirs! ye twain!

Ted. They flee not far hence!

Dil. Turn again, Study!

Study. Now, Diligence!

Inst. Well said! Hold fast now!

Study. He fleeth!

Dil. Then follow!

Inst. With his own weapon now work him sorrow! Wit lieth at receipt!

Ted. (dieth). Oh! ho! ho!

Inst. Hark! he dieth! Where strength lacketh, policy supplieth.

Here Wit cometh in and bringeth in the head upon his sword, and sayeth as followeth:

[Wit.] I can ye thank, sirs! this was well done!

Study. Nay, yours is the deed!

Dil. To you is the thank!

Inst. I can ye thank, all; this was well done!

Wit. How say ye, man? Is this field well won?

Confidence cometh running in.

[Conf.] Yea, by my faith, so sayeth your dear heart.

Wit. Why, where is she, that here now thou art?

Conf. Upon yonder mountain, on high, She saw ye strike that head from the body; Whereby ye have won her, body and all; In token whereof receive here ye shall A gown of knowledge, wherein you must Receive her here straight.

Wit. But sayest thou just?

[Conf.] So just I say that, except ye hie ye, Or ye be ready, she will be by ye.

Wit. Hold! Present unto her this head here, And give me warning when she cometh near.

[Exit Confidence.

Instruction! will ye help to devise To trim this gear now in the best wise?

Inst. Give me that gown, and come with me, all!

Dil. Oh, how this gear to the purpose doth fall!

Confidence cometh running in.

[Conf.] How, master, master! Where be ye now?

Wit. Here, Confidence! what tidings bring'st thou?

Conf. My lady at hand here doth abide ye; Bid her welcome! What, do ye hide ye?

Here Wit, Instruction, Study, and Diligence sing "Welcome, my own," and Science, Experience, Reason and Confidence come in at L[eft], and answer every second verse:

Welcome, mine own! Welcome, mine own!

Wit and his Company. O lady dear, Be ye so near To be known? My heart you cheer Your voice to hear; Welcome, mine own!

Sci. and her Company. As ye rejoice To hear my voice Fro me thus blown, So in my choice I show my voice To be your own.

Wit and his Company. Then draw we near To see and hear My love long grown! Where is my dear? Here I appear To see mine own.

Sci. and her Company. To see and try Your love truly Till death be flown, Lo! here am I, That ye may spy I am your own.

Wit and his Company. Then let us meet, My love so sweet, Half-way here thrown!

Sci. and her Company. I will not sleet My love to greet. Welcome, mine own!

Wit and his Company. Welcome, mine own!

All sing: Welcome, mine own!

[And when the song is done, Reason sendeth Instruction, Study, and Diligence, and Confidence out; and then, standing in the middle of the place, Wit sayeth as followeth:

Wit. Welcome, mine own! with all my whole heart, Which shall be your own till death us depart! I trust, lady! this knot even since knit.

Sci. I trust the same; for since ye have smit Down my great enemy, Tediousness, Ye have won me forever, doubtless, Although ye have won a clog withal!

Wit. A clog, sweetheart? what?

Sci. Such as doth fall To all men that join themselves in marriage, In keeping their wives; a careful carriage!

Wit. Careful? Nay, lady! that care shall employ No clog, but a key of my most joy. To keep you, sweet heart! as shall be fit, Shall be no care, but most joy to Wit!

Sci. Well, yet I say—mark well what I say!— My presence bringeth you a clog; no nay! Not in the keeping of me only, But in the use of Science chiefly; For I, Science, am, in this degree, As all, or most part, of women be: If ye use me well, in a good sort, Then shall I be your joy and comfort; But if ye use me not well, then doubt me, For sure ye were better then without me!

Wit. Why, lady! think you me such a wit, As being affianced by you, and yet Would misuse ye? Nay, if ye doubt that, Here is one loveth thee more than somewhat: If Wit misuse ye at any season, Correct me then your own father, Reason.

Rea. Ho, daughter! can ye desire any more? What need these doubts? Avoid them, therefore!

Exp. By' lakyn, sir! but, under your favour, This doubt our daughter doth well to gather For a good warning now, at beginning, What Wit, in the end, shall look for in winning. Which shall be this, sir! if Science here, Which is God's gift, be used mere Unto God's honour, and profit both Of you and your neighbour, which goth In her, of kind, to do good to all: This seen to, Experience! I, shall Set you forth, Wit, by her to employ Double increase to your double joy; But if you use her contrariwise To her good nature, and so devise To evil effects to wrest and to wry her, Yea, and cast her off and set nought by her, Be sure I, Experience, shall than Declare you so before God and man; That this talent from you shall be taken And you punished for your gain forsaken.

Wit. "Once warned, half-armed," folk say, namely when Experience shall warn a man, then Time to take heed. Mother Experience! Touching your daughter, my dear heart, Science, As I am certain that to abuse her I breed mine own sorrow, and well to use her I increase my joy; and so to make it God's grace is ready if I will take it: Then—but ye count me no wit at all— Let never these doubts into your head fall; But, as yourself, Experience, clearing All doubts at length, so, till time appearing, Trust ye with me in God; and, sweetheart, While your father, Reason, taketh with part To receive God's grace as God shall send it, Doubt ye not our joy till life's end [end] it!

Sci. Well, then, for the end of all doubts past, And to that end which ye spake of last, Among our wedding matters here rendering, Th' end of our lives would be in remembering; Which remembrance, Wit, shall sure defend ye From the misuse of Science and send ye The gain my mother to mind did call: Joy without end—that wish I to all!

Rea. Well said! and as ye, daughter! wish it, That joy, to all folk in general, So wish I, Reason, the same; but yet First in this life wish I here to fall To our most noble King and Queen in especial, To their honourable Council, and then to all the rest, Such joy as long may rejoice them all best! [All say Amen.

Here cometh in four with viols and sing, "Remember me," and, at the last, choir all make curtsey, and so go forth singing.

Thus endeth the Play of Wit and Science, made by Master John Redford.

[Pg 176] [Pg 177]

RESPUBLICA
A.D. 1553 A DRAMA OF REAL LIFE IN THE EARLY DAYS OF QUEEN MARY

A Merry Interlude, entitled

RESPUBLICA

Made in the Year of our Lord 1553, and
the First Year of the most Prosperous
Reign of our Most Gracious
Sovereign Queen Mary
the First

The Parts and Names of the Players:

• The Prologue, a Poet
• Avarice, alias Policy, the Vice of the Play
• Insolence, alias Authority, the Chief Gallant
• Oppression, alias Reformation, another Gallant
• Adulation, alias Honesty, the Third Gallant
• People, representing the Poor Commonalty
• Respublica, a Widow
• Misericordia, }
• Veritas,           } four Ladies
• Justicia,          }
• Pax,                 }
• Nemesis, the Goddess of Redress and Correction, a Goddess

RESPUBLICA.

THE PROLOGUE.

First, health and success, with many a good new year, Wished unto all this noble presence here! I have more t' entreat you of gentle sufferance That this our matter may have quiet utterance. We, that are th' authors, have ourselves dedicate With some Christmas devise, your spirits to recreate; And, our poet trusteth, the thing we shall recite May, without offence, the hearers' minds delight; Indeed, no man speaketh words so well fore pondered, But the same, by some means, may be misconstrued. Nor, nothing so well meant but that, by some pretence, It may be wrong interpreted from the author's sense. But, let this be taken no worse than it is meant, And I hope nor we, nor our poet, shall be shent.

But now, of th' argument to touch a word or twain: The name of our play is Respublica, certain. Our meaning is—I say not, as by plain story, But as it were in figure by an allegory— To show that all commonweals ruin and decay From time to time hath been, is, and shall be alway, When Insolence, Flattery, Oppression, And Avarice have the rule in their possession. But, though these vices, by cloaked collusion, And by counterfeit names hidden their abusion, Do reign for a while to commonweals' prejudice, Perverting all right, and all order of true justice; Yet time trieth all, and time bringeth truth to light; That wrong may not ever still reign in place of right. For, when pleaseth God such commonweals to restore To their wealth and honour, wherein they were afore, He sendeth down His most tender compassion, To cause truth go about in visitation. Verity, the daughter of sage old Father Time, Sheweth all as it is, be it virtue or crime; Then doth Justice, all such as commonwealth oppress— Tempered with mercy—endeavour to suppress; With whom, anon, is linked tranquillity and peace, To commonweals' joy and perpetual increase.

But shall boys, (saith some now), of such high matters play? No! not as discussers; but yet, the book doth say: Ex ore infantium perferisti laudem. For, when Christ came riding into Jerusalem, The young babes, with th' old folk, cried out all and some: "Blessed be the man that in the Lord's name doth come!" So, for good England's sake, this present hour and day, In hope of her restoring from her late decay, We children, to you old folk, both with heart and voice, May join all together to thank God, and rejoice That He hath sent Mary, our sovereign and queen, To reform th' abuses which hitherto hath been; And that ills which long time have reigned uncorrect Shall now, for ever, be redressed with effect. She is our most wise and most worthy Nemesis; Of whom our play meaneth, t' amend that is amiss; Which, to bring to pass, that she may have time and space, Let us, both young and old, to God commend her grace! Now, if you so please, I will go and hither send That shall make you laugh well, if ye abide th' end.

Finis.

RESPUBLICA.

ACTUS PRIMI, SCENA PRIMA.

[Avarice.]

Avarice. Now, godigod! everyone, both great and small, From highest to lowest, Godigod to you all! Godigod! what should I say? even or morn, If I mark how the day goeth—God give me sorrow! But, godigod! each one, twenty and twenty score Of that ye most long for—what would ye have more? Ye must pardon my wits, for I tell you, plain, I have a hive of humble bees swarming in my brain; And he that hath the compass to fetch that I must fetch, I may say, in counsel, had need his wits to stretch.

But now, what my name is, and what is my purpose— Taking you all for friends—I fear not to disclose. My very true, unchristian name is Avarice, Which I may not have openly known, in no wise; For, though to most men I am found commodious, Yet, to those that use me, my name is odious. For, who is so foolish that the evil he hath wrought For his own behoof, he would to light should be brought? Or, who had not rather, his ill doings to hide, Than to have the same bruited on every side? Therefore, to work my feat, I will my name disguise; And call my name Policy instead of Covetise. The name of Policy is praised of each one; But, to rake gromwell-seed, Avarice is alone; The name of Policy is of none suspected— Policy is ne'er of any crime detected. So that, under the name and cloak of Policy, Avarice may work facts, and scape all jealousy. And, now is the time come that—except I be a beast, E'en to make up my mouth, and to feather my nest— A time that I have waited for, a great long space; And now may I speed my purpose, if I have grace.

For, hear ye, sirrah! our great, grand lady mother, Noble Dame Respublica, she and none other— Of the offals, the refuse, the rags, the parings; The baggage, the trash, the fragments, the sharings; The odd ends, the crumbs, the driblets, the chippings; The patches, the pieces, the broklets, the drippings; The flittance, the scrapings, the wild wai[f]s and strays; The skimmings, the gubbings of booties and preys; The gleanings, the casualties, the blind escheats; The forging of forfeit[s], the scape of extreats; Th' excess, the waste, the spoils, the superfluities; The windfalls, the shreddings, the fleecings, the petty fees; With a thousand things more, which she may right well lack— Would fill all these same purses that hang at my back. Yea! and ten times as many more bags as these, Which should be but a flea-biting for her to lese; That, if I may have the grace and hap to blind her, I doubt not, a sweet lady I shall find her. To her it were nothing; yet, many a small maketh a great; And all things would help me whatever I may geat: Full little know men the great need that I am in. Do not I spend daily of that that I do win? Then, age cometh on; and what is a little gold To keep a man by drede that is feeble and old? No man, therefore, blame me though I would have more: The world waxeth hard, and store, (they say), is no sore. Now, the chance of thieves, in good hour be it spoken— Out, alas! I fear I left my coffer open. I am surely undone! alas! where be my kays? It is gone, that I have sweat for all my live-days! Woe worth all whoreson thieves, and such covetous knaves! That, for their winding sheet, would scrape men out of their graves!

[Exeat.

ACTUS PRIMI, SCENA SECUNDA.

Adulation. Insolence. Oppression.

Intrant Canta[n]tes.

Adulation. Oh, noble Insolence! if I could sing as well, I would look in heaven among angels to dwell.

Insolence. Sing! now, do I sing but as other many do?

Adul. Yes, an angel's voice ye have, to hearken unto.

Insol. Yea! but what availeth that to high dignity?

Oppression. By His arms! not a whit, as far as I can see!

Insol. Or, what helpeth that thing to set a man aloft?

Oppr. By His wounds! not a straw; so have I told you oft.

Adul. No! but ye are one of such goodly personage, Of such wit and beauty, and of sage parentage, So excellent in all points of every art—

Insol. Indeed, God and nature in me have done their part—

Adul. That, if ye will put yourself forward to the most, Ye may, throughout the whole land, rule all the roste— How say you, Oppression? is it not even so?

Oppr. Thou sayest sooth, Adulation! so might I go: If he were disposed to take the charge in hand, I warrant him a chive to rule all the whole land.

Adul. So, Master Insolence! ye hear Oppression?

Insol. I thank both him and thee, good Adulation! And long have I dreamed of such an enterprise; But how, or where to begin, I cannot devise.

Oppr. Wherefore serve friends, but your enterprise to allow?

Adul. And then must you support them, as they must maintain you.

Oppr. And, wherefore do friends serve, but to set you in?

Adul. Ye shall have all my help whenever ye begin.

Insol. But we may, herein, nothing attempt, in no wise, Without the counsel of our founder, Avarice.

Adul. He must direct all this gear by his holy ghost.

Oppr. For he knoweth what is to be done in each coast; He knoweth where, and how that money is to be had— And, yonder he cometh! methinketh more than half mad!

[Intrat Avarice.

ACTUS PRIMI, SCENA TERTIA.

Avarice. Insolence. Oppression. Adulation.

Avarice. It was a fair grace that I was not undone clean; Yet my key was safe locked under mine locks, I ween. But e'en, as against such a thing my heart will throb, I found knaves about my house, ready me to rob. There was such tooting, such looking, and such prying; Such hearkening, such stalking, such watching, such spying. "What would ye, my masters?" "We look after a cat." "What make ye hereabout?" "We have smelled a rat." Now, a weal on such noses! thought I, by and by, That so quickly can scent where hidden gold doth lie. But had I not come when I did, without all fails, I think they had digged up my walls with their nails!

Insol. Let us speak to him, and break his chafing talk.

Avar. Such greediness of money among men doth walk That, have it they will, either by hook or by crook!

Oppr. Let us call to him that he may this way look.

Avar. Whether by right, or by wrong, in faith! some care not: Therefore, catch that catch may, hardely, and spare not!

Adul. All hail our founder and chief, Master Avarice!

Avar. The devil is a knave, an I catch not a flyce.

Adul. When ye see your time, look this way, your friends upon!

Avar. I doubt not to scamble and rake as well as one.

Adul. Here be that would fain be disciples of your art.

Avar. I will not be behind to get a child's part.

Adul. Now, if ye have done, I pray you look this way back.

Avar. Who buzzeth in mine ear so? what? ye saucy Jack!

Adul. Are ye yet at leisure, with your good friends to talk?

Avar. What, clawest thou mine elbow, pratling merchant? walk! Ye flatterabundus, you! you flearing clawback, you! You the-crow-is-white, you! you the-swan-is-black, you! You John-hold-my-staff, you! you what-is-the-clock, you! You ait-aio you! you negat-nego you!

Adul. I marvel you speak to me in such fashion.

Avar. Why troublest thou me then in my contemplation?

Adul. I came of right good love, not minding you to let.

Avar. Thou ne'er camest to any man of good love yet.

Adul. And these men's minds it was I should so do.

Avar. As false wretches as thine own self, and falser too!

Insol and Oppr. We have been loving to you, and faithful alway.

Avar. For your own profits, then; and not mine, I daresay; And e'en, veray! you three it was, and others none, That would have robbed me, not yet half an hour gone.

Insol., Oppr., Adul. We never robbed any man, later or rather.

Avar. Yes, many a time and oft, your own very father.

Oppr. And to you have we borne hearty favours alway.

Avar. And, I warrant you hanged for your labours one day.

Oppr., Adul. And, as our god, we have alway honoured you.

Avar. And, e'en as your god, I have aye succoured you.

Oppr. We call you our founder, by All Holy Hallows!

Avar. Founder me no found'ring; but beware the gallows!

Insol. I pray you leave these words, and talk friendly at last.

Avar. Content! at your request, my fame is now well past; And, in faith! what saith our friend, Adulation?

Adul. I wonder at your rough communication, That ye would to me use words of such vehemence.

Avar. Faith, man! I spake but even to prove your patience, That if thou hadst grunted or stormed thereat.

Adul. Nay! few times do I use such loud manner as that.

Avar. Come! shake hands! for ever we two be at one.

Adul. As for grudge in me, there shall never remain none.

Avar. Now, Master Insolence! to your ghostly purpose!

Insol. We accorded a matter to you to disclose.

Avar. I understand all your agreement and accord; For, I laid in your bosoms when ye spake the word; And I like well the advice of Oppression, And eke of Flattery, for your progression.

Insol. If there were matter whereon to work, I care not.

Avar. Ye shall have matter enough; be doing, spare not!

Insol. What! to come to honour and wealth for us all three?

Avar. Ah then! ye could be content to leave out me!

Insol. No! for I know ye can, for yourself well provide.

Avar. Yea! that I can; and for twenty hundred beside.

Adul. Oh, would Christ, good founder! ye would that thing open.

Avar. Bones, knave! wilt thou have it ere it can be spoken?

Oppr. For the passion of God! tell it us with all speed!

Avar. By the cross, not a word! here is haste made indeed.

Insol. Yes, good, sweet Avarice! dispatch, and tell at once!

Avar. Nay then, cut my throat! ye are fellows for the nonce— Will ye have a matter before it can be told? If ye will have me tell it, ye shall your tongues hold. Whist! silence! not a word! Mum! let your clatter cease! Are ye with child to hear, and cannot hold your peace? So sir! now Respublica, the lady of estate, Ye know, now lately, is left almost desolate. Her wealth is decayed; her comfort clean ago; And she at her wit's end what for to say or do. Fain would she have succour, and easement of her grief; And highly advance them that would promise relief; Such as would warrant her spirits to revive Might mount to high estate, and be most sure to thrive.

Insol. So!

Adul. Well said!

Oppr. Ha!

Avar. What is this hum, ha, hum?

Insol. On forth!

Adul. Go too!

Oppr. Tell on!

Avar. Body of me!

Adul. Mum!

Avar. What say ye?

Insol. Haik!

Adul. Tuff!

Oppr. Hem!

Avar. Who haiken, tuffa, hum—what say ye?

Oppr. Nothing!

Insol. Not a word?

Avar. Nor you, neither?

Adul. Mum!

Avar. Did ye speak or not?

Insol. No!

Oppr. No!

Adul. No!

Avar. Nor yet do not?

Insol. No!

Oppr. No!

Adul. No!

[Oppr. No!

Insol. No!

Adul. No!

Avar. That, that, that! that, that, that! Sir, I intend Dame Respublica t'assail; And, so to creep in to be of her counsel; I hope well to bring her in such a paradise That herself shall sue me to have my service; Then shall I have time and power to bring in you three.

Oppr. Do this out of hand, founder! and first, speak for me; Bring me in credit that my hands be in the pie: An I get not elbow room among them, let me lie.

Avar. Nay! see an Oppression, this eager elf, Be not since more covetous than covetous self! Soft! be not so hasty, I pray you, Sir! soft awhile! You will over the hedge ere ye come at the stile.

Oppr. I would fain be shouldering and rumbling among them.

Avar. Nay! I will help javels as shall wrong them.

Adul. I pray you, good founder! let not me be the last.

Avar. Thou shalt be well placed where to thrive very fast.

Adul. I thank you, Master Avarice! with all my heart.

Avar. And when thou art in place, see thou play well thy part. When ye claw her elbow, remember your best friend; And let my commendations be ever at one end.

Adul. I warrant you!

Insol. And what! shall [I] be left clean out?

Avar. No, sir! ye shall be chief to bring all things about; Ye shall among us have the chief pre-eminence; And we to you, as it were, owe obedience: Ye shall be our leader, our captain, and our guide; Then must ye look aloft, with hands under the side. I shall tell Respublica ye can best govern: Be not ye, then, squeamish to take in hand the stern. Then shall we assist you, as friends of perfect trust, To do and to undo, and command what ye lust, And, when you have all at your own will and pleasure, Part of your livings to your friends ye may measure; And punish the proudest of them that will resist.

Oppr. He that once winceth shall feel the weight of my fist.

Adul. Yea! we must all hold and cleave together like burrs.

Avar. Yea! see ye three hang and draw together like furze.

Oppr. And so shall we be sure to get store of money Sweeter than sugar!

Avar. Sweeter than any honey!

Insol. Very well spoken! this gear will right well accord.

Adul. Did not I say ye were worthy to be a lord?

Avar. I will make Insolence a lord of high estate.

Insol. And I will take upon me well, both early and late.

Oppr. But, Insolence! when ye come to the encroaching of lands, Ye may not take all alone into your hands; I will look to have part of goods, lands, and plate.

Insol. Ye shall have enough, each body after his rate.

Adul. I must have part, too; ye must not have all alone.

Insol. Thou shalt be laden till thy shoulders shall crack and groan.

Adul. I pray you, let me have a good lordship or two.

Insol. Respublica shall feed thee till thou wilt say, ho!

Adul. And I must have good manor places, two or three.

Insol. But the chief and best lordship must remain to me.

Oppr. Mass! and I will look to be served of the best; Or else some folk, somewhere, shall sit but in small rest.

Insol. I must have castles and towns in every shire.

Adul. And I, change of houses—one here, and another there.

Insol. And I must have pastures, and townships, and woods.

Oppr. And I must needs have store of gold and other goods.

Insol. And I must have change of farms, and pastures for sheep; With daily revenues my lusty port for to keep.

Avar. I would have a bone here, rather than a groat, To make these snarling curs gnaw out each other's throat! Here! be eager, whelps! lo! to it Boy! box him Ball! Poor I may pick straws; these hungry dogs will snatch all.

Oppr. Each man snatch for himself; by gosse! I will be sped.

Avar. Lack who lack shall: Oppression will be corn fed! Is not Dame Respublica sure of good handling When these whelps, ere they have it, fall thus to scambling? And me, their chief founder, they have e'en since forgot.

Insol. Thou shalt have gold and silver enough to thy lot: Respublica hath enough to fill all our laps.

Adul. Then, I pray you, sir! let our founder have some scraps!

Avar. Scr[a]ps? ye doltish lout! feed you your founder with scraps? If you were well served your head would have some raps.

Adul. I spake of good will.

Insol. Nay, fight not, good Avarice!

Oppr. What any of us getteth, thou hast the chief price.

Avar. Then, whatever ye do, ye will remember me?

Insol. Oppr. Adul. Yea!

Avar. Well, so do then; and I forgive you all three.

Insol. But, when do we enter, every man his charge?

Avar. As soon as I can spy Respublica at large I will board her; and, I trow, so win her favour That she shall hire me, and pay well for my labour. Then will I commend the virtues of you three That she shall pray and wish under our rule to be; Therefore, from this hour, be ye all in readiness!

Oppr. Doubt not of us! thou seest all our grediness.

Insol. If it be at midnight, I come at the first call.

[They go forward, one after other.