A great mislike amongst vs that might breede.

I seeke but one and her vnto my selfe.

And one with I sauns partner of my loues.

It stands with honour to be sole or none.

Whom louest thou pleasure?

Hearke ye. Whisper in his eare.

Lush, ye lie.

If my maister were a souldier, that word wold haue the stab.

VVel Wil, stil you'll be a saucie Scab.

VVhy Pleasure? Pompe hath chosen Lucres loue.

VVhy pompe? But pleasure honors Lucre most.

Lord pollicie with reason hath discuss pleasure consent, and so our loue shall hold.

Wealth watch for pomp for thou canst wel defend

Wil can do something too when pleaseth him.

Wil is a good boy where better is none. Exeunt he . Lordes.

Nay Wit were the best boy if wil were gone.

Nay wealth is the best boy, sirs let that alone.

I wisse he saith true wil, this wealth's a gay lad,

I care not for him, curmudgenly Swad.

Wel, misse me a while & you'll go neer to be sad.

Wil, ye are wil foole, if of him ye be not glad.

Nay wit if thou want him, thou'ilt go neer to be mad.

To keepe vs still quiet, I would other talke we had,

I hope we'l not fall out being none but we three.

Nay, Wit and wil are at strife, when ther's no body but we.

what giues thy maister here? a Buzzard or a Ryte.

Thou mightest see it was no Buzzard man by the bels:

What's the reason of this Faulcon, I pray thee Will show.

And what's the word?

Pour temps, for time.

A verie pretie one, I would it were in rime.

In rime VVit, why so?

Because it wantes reason.

Looke for my fist VVit, if ye rap out such treason.

Treason, to what, boy?

To my maisters bird.

Now Wil my thombe wags, it was but to his word.

Looke wil, and gesse.

Tis a Load in a shell.

I had as léeue ye had said, a Frog in a well.

Is't not a great Butterfly, Wil, canst thou tll?

What is it in sadnesse?

A Tortoys my boy, whose shell is so hard, that a loaden art may goe ouer and not breake it, and so she is safe within, and where∣soeuer shee goes, she beares it on her backe, needing neither other succour or shilter but her shell: the woord vnderneath her is Proui∣dens securus, the prouident is safe, like to the Tortoys, armed with his owne defence, and defended with his owne armour: in shape somewhat rounde, signifying compasse, wherein alwaies the prouident forsee to keepe themselues within their owne compasse, my boy.

If VVill had not bene wilfull, now he might haue saide a Lilly, whose glorie is without comparison, and beautie matchlesse. for Salomon the most sumptuos King that euer was, was neuer comparable in glorie with the Lilly, neither is ther any citties match∣able with the pomp of London, mistake me not good boies, that this pompe tendes to pride, yet London hath ynough, but my Lord pomp doeth rightly represent the statelie magnificence and sumptuous e∣state without pride or vaine glorie to London accomodate, and there∣fore the woord is well applied to the ympreze (Glorie sauns peere) for that the Lillie is neither proud of the beautie, nor vainglorious of th pompe: No more is London, but if it be ioyful of any thing, it is of the peace and plentie, both flowing from two such fountaines as becomes not vs to name. Now therefore, my god boies, know that my Mai∣ster is rather Magnificence than pompe in bad sense, and rather pomp than Pride in the best sense.

And my Lord is not pleasure sprong of Voluptuousnes, but of such honorable and honest kind conceit, as heauen & humanitie wel brookes and allowes pleasure pleasing not pernitius.

Who would haue thought that wil had bene philosophous, But what means the word pour temps in the shield, for time?

And so my maister hath the vantage wil ye or no, pomp and pleasure may be il.

May not pollicy be bad?

Wit, wel ouertaken by VVil that craftie Lad.

And ours so too.

Wel, let vs accod, for wit's a good thing, yet may be il appli'd

A Jack an Apes hath wit.

But he neuer hath wealth: now ye are both still.

Yes, he weares a chaine.

Well spoke, and like a bearward.

If ye be Non plus let the matter fall.

Wit, dost thou see? thus goes wealth away with al.

He will eate them I thinke, for he gapes verie wide.

Say nothing to him, and ye shal see the foole goe by.

Sirra, gape not so wide for feare of a flie.

Fly, flam flurt: why? Can a flie doo hurt?

Three, are ye sure?

Ile not sweare till I haue told you: one, two, three.

I beshrew thee.

Mee boy, why? I am beshrewed already, for I am maried.

Then thou hast a wife?

Yea, I would thou hadst her, if thou couldst stay her tongue,

I thy wise man? Why, I am too yoong.

No whit ashamed sir of that that we are, nor ashamed at all of those whom we serue, for boyes we be, and as we be, we serue the three Lordes of London, to weet, pollicie, pompe, and pleasure.

A pretie spoken Child and of a prety wit.

VVit's his name indeed, are ye one of his Godfathers, yee hit it so right?

Welcome sir, how so? why do ye entertaine me so kindly? I cannot dwell with you for I haue a maister already.

So haue I too, but she learnes me litle wit: my wife I mean VVel, al this while I stand heere my wares are not abroad, and so I may loose both my customers and market.

VVares sir, haue ye wares? what wares do ye sell?

Truely Child, I sel Ballades: soft, whose wares are these that are vp already? I paid rent for my standing, and other folkes wares shall be placed afore mine, this is wise indeed.

O, the finenes of the wares (man) deserue to haue good place.

They are fine indéed, who sels them, can ye tell? Is he frée?

Our maisters be, we wait on this ware, and yet we are no chapmen.

Chapmen, no that's true, for you are no men, neither Chapmen nor chopmen, nor chipmen nor shipmen, but if ye be chappers, chop∣pers or chippers, ye are but chapboyes, and chapboyes ye are double.

Double, how is it? Teach me that and you wil make me laugh a litle.

And me a litle:

And me a litle.

Then your three litle laughes will make one great laugh:

True, for if three fooles were one foole, that were a great foole. But how are we double chapboies?Point to Simplicity.

Because ye haue two chaps, an vpper chap and a nether chap.

Ha, ha, ha.

Ha, ha, ha.

Ha, ha, ha.

You said you would laugh but a litle, but you laugh a great deale, why doo ye laugh so much?

Because your wit was so great in expounding your meaning

Yee, you may see it is a good thing to haue wit.

I thanke you sir.

And what say you to wealth?

wealth? Marie wealth is better.

I thanke you sir.

And how say ye to wil?

Yea betwéene a maid and a bacheler.

Why? you are not in loue boy?

yes but I am, and in charity too.

Charitie? alas poore child, thou in chariti, ha, ha, now must I laugh.

But you laugh a great while, and you laugh verie loud,

Then I ow you nothing for laughing, & you hear me the

But now laugh not we.

No, you may be maddle, coddle: wel heres thrée passing fine lads, if a man were able to keep them all: let me see wealth, oh that's a swéet lad: then wit, oh that's a sine lad: Wil, oh that's a pretie lad. Wil, wit, and wealth, God lend yee health. I would I could guile heir maisters of two of them. If I had Fraud here that serued Lady Lu∣cre, he would teach me: he would teach me to tice one of them from his maister: which of them now, if a man should steale one? wil? Nay, I care not for wil outsep he be good wil: VVit, a pretie child, but a man can not liue by wit: wealth, yea marie sir, I would I could win that wealth, for then I néed neither wil, nor wit, nor I need sell no Ballad but liue like a mouse in a mill and haue another to grinde my meal for me, Ile haue a fling at one of them anone.

Do you not forget your selfe gaffar.

Haue you not wares to sell gaffar?

When doo you show gaffar?

VVel remembred pretie lads, ye may sée, children can teach old folks, I am an vnthrift indeed: wel, my wares shall out now. But sir, how sell ye your wares, how many of these for a groat?

Our wares are not to be sold.

Not for siluer nor gold? why hang they then in the open market?

To be seene, not bought.

Then they are like ripe plummes vpon a rich mans trée that set mens téeth a watering when they be not to bee bought: but what call ye these things?

Scutchions.

Cushens, alas it were pittie to sit on such fine cuhens: but come my boies if you'il buy any of my wares, her's my stall, and Il open and show strait.

What daintie fine Ballad haue you now to be sold?

It is a dolefull discourse, and sung as dolefully.

Why, you can not mend it, can ye?

What wil you lay on that? For I my selfe dare lay six groats to six of your balde Ballades, that you your selfe shall say I sing bet∣ter than you.

What a brag boy is this to comparison with a man, but boy boy, I will not lay six Ballades to six groates, but I will lay six Bal∣lades to six ierkes at your buttockes, that you shall not sing so well as I.

That I shall not? No, possible you wil not let me sing.

I not let you? Is that spoken like wit? It is spoken like a Woodcocke, how can I stay thee if thou wilt sing out thy throat?

Well then, to our bargaine, six Ballades to six stripes, and who shall keepe stakes?

Neither of your companions, for that's aske my fellow if I be a theefe.

Will you keepe the stakes your selfe?

Best of all, for I meane plainely and will pay if I loose, her's my six Ballades, they bee ready: now how shall I come by your sixe stripes boy?

Downe with your bréeches, Ile fetch a rod and deliuer them straight.

Nay then I care not if thou keepe stakes.

You speak too late gaffar, hauing challenged preheminence.

Then let's lay no wager but sing for good fellowship.

Agreed, who shall begin?

O boy, who is the elder? Hast thou not heard giue Flounders to thy elder?

You mistake the fish, trust me I am sure tis giue place, but begin with good grace.

Now sirs, which singes best?

To sy trueth ther's but had choice, How wil you sel the ballad you sang, for Ile not buy the voice.

Why wilt thou not buy my voice?

Because it wil cost me more money to buy sallet oile to kéep it frō rusting, than it is woorth: but I pray ye honest man, what' this?

Read and then shalt see.

I cannot read.

Not read & brought vp in London, wrust thou neuer to schols

Yes, but I would not learn.

Thou wast the more foole: if thou cannot read Ile tel thi, this is Tarltons picture: didst thou neuer know Tarlton▪

No: what was that Tarlton? I neuer knew him.

What was be: a prentice in his youth of this honorable ci∣ty, God be with him: when he was yoong he was leaning to the trade that my wife vseth nowe, and I haue vsed, vide lice shirt, water-bearing: I wis he hath tost a Tankard in Cornehil er nowe, if thou knewest him not I wil not cal thée ingram, but if thou knewest not him, thou knewest no body: I warrant her's two crackropes knew him.

I dwelt with him.

Didst thou? now giue me thy hand, I loue thée the better.

And I too sometime.

you child, did you dwel with him sometime?

wit dwelt with him indeed, as appeared by his rime,

And serued him well, and wil was with him now & than, but soft, thy name is wealth, I think in earnest he was litle acquainted with the O it was a fine fellow as ere was borne, there will neuer come his like while the earth can corne. O passing fine Tarlton I would thou hadst lined yet.

He might haue some, but thou showest smal wit, there is no such finenes in the picture that I see.

Because of thy praise, what's the price of the picture.

Why, wealth is free euery where, what néed I serue you. My Lord is a freeman if that may doo me good.

I cry ye mercy M. boy, then your maister is frée of the lords company and you serue him that ye may be a Lord when ye come out of your yeares.

Wealth is a proud boy, gaffar what say you to mée?

Thy name is wit, wilt thou dwell with me?

If I like your name and science, perchance wee'il agree

Nay, my name & mine honestie is al one, it is wel knowen He's a very foole that cannot beguile me, for my name is simplicity.

Coads gaffar wer not you a meal-man once and dwelt with Lady Conscience?

Yes, for want of a better.

What, a better man?

No, for want of a better mistresse, she was as very a foole as I We dwelt so long together that we went both on begging.

Indeed they that vse a good conscience cannot sodainly be rich, But Ile not dwel with ye, you are too simple a maister for me.

Nor Ile not dwell with you for all this worlds treasure.

No, why whom serue you Wil?

I serue my Lord pleasure.

And whom serue you wit?

I serue my Lord pollicie·

And whom serue you wealth?

I serue my Lord pompe.

You should be serued al with my Lord Birchley if you wer wel serued, these lads are so lordly that louts care not for them: for wealth serues Pomp, Wit serues pollicy, and wil serues pleasure. welth, wil you buy this picture for your Lord?Shew Tarltons picture,

No, it's too hase a Present for pomp.

And pollicy seldom regardes such a trisle.

Content ye good wife, we doo not fltch, but buy.

To stand long with your burden, me thinks you shuld be weary

Wife, must I not dine to day?

No sir by my say. Exit Penurie.

Yea, I thanke God though she be poore and scarse cleanly, yet she is homely, careful and comely.

Farewel Maister simplicity.Exeunt.

What's the matter you call vs backe so sodainly.

I forgot to aske you whither your thrée Lords of London be courtiers or Cittiners?

Citizens borne and courtiers brought vp: Is this all? Fare∣well. Exit.

Citizens borne and Courtiers brought vp, I thinke so, for they that be borne in London are halfe Courtiers before they see the Court, for finesse and manerlinesse oh passing, my maners and misbe∣hauiour is mended halfe in halfe since I gaue ouer being a meal-man and came to dwll in London: ye may see Time dooth much, Time weares out yron horshooes: Time teares out milstones: Time sea∣sons a pudding well, and Time hath made mee a frée man, as free to beare water and sell Ballades, as the best of our copulation: I would haue thought once my horse should haue bene frée as soon as my selfe, and sooner too, for he would haue stombled with a sacke of meale and lien along in the channell with it when hee had done, and that some cals fréedome, but it's but a durtie fréedome, but ye may sée, bad hor∣ses were but ades in those daies: But soft, here comes customers: What lacke ye, what is't ye lack, what lacke ye? Come along and buy nothing: fine Ballades, new Ballades, what lack ye?

My Lordes come on, what suits haue you to me?

But Nemo can from thence redéeme them all.

Their deeds were cause, not Nemo of their thral.

Yet Nemo was the Iudge that sentence gaue.

But Nemo neuer spill'd, whom he could saue:

Thou from perpetuall prison maist reuoke.

Death hath no power gainst him to strike a strok

What's your purpose in this earnest suit?

To marie them, and make them honest wiues.

Mariage doth make amends for many amisse.

And loue doth couer hears of combrous euils.

And doth forget the faults that were before.

Meane as you say, ye neede to say no more.

Becommeth vs to waite on Nemo still,

Doe but commaund and we shall all subscribe.

How happie may we call this merie day my mates, Wherein we meet, that once were desperate, I thinke, euer to haue seene one another, when Nemo that vpright Iudge had by impriso∣ning our Mistresses, banished vs (by setting such diligēt watch for vs) out of London, and almost out of the world. But liue we yet? And are we met? and neere our old seat? Vsury is it thou? Let me see, or hath some other stolne thy face? Speakest thou man?

So that Vsury and an asse are two of the profitablest beasts that a man can kéepe, yet th'one hath sharper teeth than th'other.

But what meanes Dissimulation? He droopes me thinks, What cheere man? Why cousen, frolick a fit, art thou not glad of this meeting? What's the cause of thy melancholy?

Not melancholike, but musing how it comes to passe that we are thus fortunate to méet as we doo.

Ile tell thee why we met, because we are no mountaines.

But ye are as ill, for ye are monsters.

And men may meete though mountaines cannot.

I see many of these old prouerbes prooue true, tis merrie when knaues meet:

If a man had a casting net, he might catch all you.

Art not thou Simplicity?

O it is great pity.

What? to tell how we haue liued:

No, that ye doo liue.

Yet againe sirra. Vsury, as for thée it were folly to aske, for thou liuest but too wel, but Dissimulation and simony, how haue you two liued? discourse I pray you hartily.

Faith euen like two mice in an amberie that eat vp all the meat, and when they haue done, gnaw holes in the cupbord.

Fraud, after my scaping away at the Sessions where I shifted as thou knowest in thrée sundry shapes, one of a Frier, and they can dissemble: another like a woman, and they doo litle else: the third as a Saint and a Deuill, and so is a woman. I was banished out of Lon∣don by Nemo, to the countrie went I, amongst my olde friendes and neuer better loued than among the russet coates: once in a moneth I stole in othe market day to Leaden-hall and about, and sometime to VVestminster hall. Now hearing some speach, that the Ladies should be sued for, for I ame come in hope of my old intertaiment, supposing my selfe not knowen of many, and hoping the three Lords wil pre∣uaile in their suit, and I to serue one of them.

He shall doo well that giues thee a coat, but he should do bet∣ter, that could take of thy skinne.

And I haue bene a traueiler abroad in other realms, for here I am so cried out against by preachers (and yet some ministers that be none, could be content to vse me) that I was glad to be gone nowe in some other landes, and not verie far of, I am secretly fostered, sa∣uing in Scotland, and the low Countries, they are refourmed, they can not abide me. Wel now and then hither I came stealing ouer sea, and hearing as you here intend as you doo.

Fraud is as ill as a cut-purse, by the masse.

And for Vsury, the longer I liue, the greater loue I find Yet would I be with Lucre, again to please my mind.

Heer's a good fellow too, one of our acquaintance, how hast thou liued Simplicity?

More honestly then all the rest of thy company: for when I might beg no longer, as begging was but bad, for you cson'd me once of an alms, I fel to tankard bearing▪ & so os a wife of the same science. painful penury, then got I my fréedom, and feeling my shoulder grow wearie of the tankard, set vp an easier trade to sel ballas.

Hadst thou a stock to set vp withal?

Wise inough to tell you, I, & yonder's my stal, but bewar I loose nothing, for if I do, Ile lay it straight to some of you, for I saw none so like theues I promise you, since I set vp.

Ye are a wiseman when your nose is in the cup, but soft who comes here? step wee close aside, for these be the three Ladies for my life brought out of prison by their keper, let vs be whist and we shall heare and se all, Sirra you must say nothing.

not til ye speak for I am affraid of him that's with y^e womn▪

Comfort it is to thinke on Sorrow past.

Sorrow remaines when ioy is but a blast.

A blast of wind is worldes felicitie,

A blasting wind and full of miserie.

O Conscience, thou hast most tormented me.

Me hath thy worm O Conscience, stong too déep.

Dare we for shame our stained faces shew.

My double face is single growen againe.

My spots are gone, my skin is smooth and plain.

Haile cheerful aire and clearest christal skie.

Vpon my weeping stone is set remorse in brazen letters.

And on this Flint in lead is Charity.

In golden letters on my stone is Care.

Then Lucre fits vpon the stone of care.

And Conscience on the Marble of remorse,

Sorrow our hearts, & time our cloaths hath torn

I know that tongue Lucre, beware of Fraud.

Of Fraud? Indéed by spéech it should be he. Fra. what séekest tho

Lucre, to honor thée with wit, with worth, with life, with al I haue, to be thy seruant as I was before, to get thée cloathes, and what thou wantest els.

No Fraud, farewell, I must be wonne no more, to keepe such seruants as I kept before.

Swéet Lady Lucre, me thou maiest accept.

How art thou called?

Simon.

I? No, sir, Conscience saith.

As you two haue sped, I would desire to spéed no wors,

Make you a suit, you may chance to spéed better:

O happie Loue, if now thou can beware.

Marie, but heare ye motley-beard, I think this blindfold buz∣zardly hedge-wench spoke to ye, she knowes ye though she see ye not, harke ye, you women, if you'il go to the alehouse, Ile bestow two pts on ye, and we'il get a paire of Carde and some company, and winn twenty pots more, for you play the best at a game call'd smelling of the foure knaues that euer I saw.

Foure? soft, yet they haue not smelt thée.

No, I am one more than is in the deck, but you'il bee smeld as soone as ye begin to speake, Ile see what they'il say to me: hear ye you women, wiues, widdowes, maides, mens daughters, What shall I cal ye? these four fellowes (hark ye, shal I cal ye afty knaues) make me beléeue that you are the three that were the three faire La∣dies of London.

Gentle Simplicity we are vnhappy they.

Now ye bad fellowes, which of ye had such a word as gentle fir▪

Bad fellowes yee Rascall? If ere you bring me pawne Ile pinch yee for that word.

I cry you mercie M. Iniurie, M. vsurie I meant not you,

If you meane vs, we may be euen with yee too.

Tut, I knew you an Ostler, and a theefe beside, you haue rub'd my horse heels er now for al your prie: but Ladies, if ye be the thrée ladies, which of ye dwelt in Kent street? one of ye did, but I know not which is she, ye looke all so like broom-wenches, I was once her seruāt, Ile nere be ashamed of her though I be rich, & I she be poore, yet if she that hath bene my dame, or he that hath bin my mister come in place, Ile speak to thē sure, Ile do my duty, which is Lady Consc?

Euen I am she Simplicity.

I am glad ye are out of prison, I thought ye had forgot me, I went a begging from you til he bedles snapt me vp, now I am free and keepe a stall of Balades, I may buy and sell, I would you had as good a gown now as I caried once of yours to pawn to Vsury here.

Gramercy good imp wilt thou be with me now?

No I thank you hartily, Ile beg no more, I can not be with ye though I would for I am maried to painful penury: Looke now my proud stately maisters, I may if I wil, & you would if ye might.

No, not dwel with such a beggar as Conscience.

No, Fraud nere loued Conscience since he was an Ostler.

Who cares for Conscience but dies a begger?

That wil not Vsury do, he wil first take 3. score pound in the hundred.

loue, looke on me and I will giue thee cloathes.

I will no more by thee be so disguised.

Ye doe the wiser, for his face looks like a cloakbacke:

In thy affctions I had once a place:

Those fond affections wrought me soule disgrace,

Ile make amends, if ought amisse were done:

Who once are burn'd, the fire will euer shun.

And yet once burn'd to warme againe may prooue:

Not at thy fire, I will be perfect loue?

I wil cloath her straight:Vsurie takes Frauds cloak, & casts it on Cons

Lady Lucre, you loue an apple, take heede the Caterpill consume not your fruit.

Why who is it that maketh this latest suit?

Tis vsurie.aloud in her ear.

the Law allowes me Madam, in some sort.

But God and I would haue thy boundes cut short.

You were euer nice, no matter what you prae:

Then it will be with him as it is at a great man house in dinner time: he that knockes when the doore is shut comes too late,

That scuruie Conscience works vs all the spight:

Wel Lucre, yet in thée we haue delight.

Yonder come some, we must take our flight. Exeunt omnes

Birdes of a fether wil flie together, but when they be taken then are they baken, yonder comes a customer, Ile to my stall:

Loue, Lucre, and Conscience, blindman buffe to you all.

Why are they wympled? shal they not vnmaske theme

It is for your sake, for Pollicie they doo it:

You shall in time Lord Pomp, be yet consent.

Their port, and their proportion wel contente.

Right stately dames, if they were wel attir':

May we not sée their beautie what it is?

Yes Lordings yes, Lucre, lift vp thy veile.

Of beautie excellent.

Of rare perfection.

A daintie face.

Vnmaske Loue.

Swéete loue indéed.

A louely face.

A gallant grace.

Conscience, vncouer.

Beautie diuine.

A face angelicall.

Swéet creature of the world.

Nemo can tel, for he doth follow them. Enter Nemo.

Friend, I am Loue, what bringest thou there to me?

Beware good Loue, from whom and what thou takest.

That I conceile from any but from loue,

From whom come you sir?

That shal lucre know, and none but she.

Then speak aloud, for whispering here is barr'd.

Then neither wil I do nor speak at al.

Falshood, let's go, we are disciphered.

Lucre, thou loosest here a priucely gift. Exeunt

Thou maiest depart with honest Industrie.

loue, follow zeal and take his ornaments. Exit Loue with p. zeale

Follow him Consc. feare not, thou art right. Exit Con. with Si

Most reuerend Nemo thanks for this good sight, lucre is cloathed by honest Industrie.

loue by pure zeale.

And Conscience by sincerity.

Come on gentle husband, let vs lay our heades together, our purses together, and our reckonings together, to sée whether wee win or loose, thriue or not, goe forward or backward, doo you keepe a booke or a skore?

A skore wife? you meane for the Alehouse, doo you not? I would haue her examine me thereof no further, for I am in too farre there, more then I would she should know.

I meane no alehouse skore, but a note of your wares, let me sée, First you began to set vp with a Roiall, how much money haue ye? what ware, and what gaine?

I haue fiue shillings in money, two shillinges in wares, or thereabout, and I owe two shillings and eight pence vppon the skore, how much is that? fiue shillings, two shillings, and two shillings and eight pence.

That is nine shillings and eight pence, so we are worse by a a groat then when we began, wel once again Ile set ye vp, here is four groates I haue got by bearing water this weeke, make vp your stock, and run no more behind▪ Who comes here?

What lacke ye? What d ye lack?

Me lack da moones pour de frene verie seene Franche knack da feene gold buttoone, de braue bugla lace, a da feene gold ring, you be free man, mee vn' Fortiner, you buy a me ware, you gaine teene pownd by lay out téene shelleng.

Wife, what hard luck haue we that cannot make x. shillings now to gain x. pound: why, x. pound would set vs vp for euer.

Husband sée the ware, & if ten shilling wil buy it, it shal go hard but we wil make that money: Friend, show my husband your wares

Looke you dere mastra de seene buttoone de la gold, de ring de gold, de bugla sheane, two shelleng vne doozen de buttoone, vne shel∣linga vne Ring, tis worth x, shelleng, but mastra & matressa mee mus∣sa make money to go ouer in my owne countrey, but mee loose teen pownd pour hast to goe next tyde or to morrow.

Here is fiue shillings buy them of this straunger.

Friend you haue not stolne them, but you make them, well, Ile buy them ithe open market, and then I care not, here is ten shil∣lings, deliuer me the wares.

Déer mastra, oh pouer necessitee maka mee selpour graund, graund losse, you shal gein x. pound at least, gor boye.

What's your name?

Mechant, I think I am euen with ye now for calling me O∣stler, you'il thriue wel with such bargaines, if ye buy, yee knowe not what, Fraud hath fitted ye with worse than your ballades.

You'il warrant them gold sirra,

Wee, so good goll as you pay for: Adieu Mounster. Exit.

Adieu Mounster: Adieu foole, sel such gold buttons & ringes for so litle money, good Lord what peniworths these strangers can af∣ford: now wife let me see, x. pound, when we haue ten pound, we'il haue a large shop, and sell all maner of wares, and buy more of these, and get ten pound more, and then ten pound, and ten pound, and twenty pound, then thou shalt haue a taffata hat and a garded gown, and I a gown and a new cap, and a stik doublet, and a faire house.

Tush, I shall sel them afore night for ten pound, gow wife, gow, I may tel you I am glad this French fellowe came with these wares, we had falne to eramining the Ale-skore els, and then wee had falne cut, and the ale wife and my wife had scolded: Wel, a man may see, he that's ordained to be rich, shal be rich: gow woman. Exeunt

From whence good Lordes grew this hot argument?

What pleasure can be fostered without cost:

What Pompe or port without respect of gaine

What pollicie without preferment liues?

Pleasure must haue Lucre:

pomp hath need of Lucre:

pollicy merits lucre:

Pleasure dies without Lucre,

Pomp decaies without Lucre,

pollicy droopes without lucre:

Go, we abide thy doome til thy returne,

If lucre be not mad she wil be mine,

If she regard her good she wil be mine.

Women loue Pompe.

Women vse Pollicie: and here she comes that must decide the doubt.

Lucre with pompe most aptly might combine

What if I denie?

Then wil I haue her.

If we denie?

So much the rather.

The rather in dspight of vs? Not so.

She's Luce vnto me: but be she Loue or Consciēce, this is she.

Whom you wil, haue?

Spight of the Deuil, I wil.

Must it not be my Lord if I agrée?

Agree.

Some further prooe it fits of you to sée:

Thus you are fast, and yet my selfe am frée:

I know in ruth thou wilt me not refuse:

I know not that, but other Ile not choose.

And art thou Conscience? welcommer to me than either loue or Lucre,

God send grace I be,

Right thankfully those fauors we'il receiue,

I wil be turn'd to paine for thy sweet sake.

For Conscience sake more than for Lucre now,

For Loue and Consciēce, not dispising Lucre.

Onely for Conscience will I hazard all.

Farewel my Lords, for me my Lords, for me.

Diligence, what number may there be?

How néere be they?

Of pollicy they triall haue at large:

Then let vs go and each man to his charge▪

I sir? Why alas I bought them of a stranger, an old French man for good gold, and to be worth ten pound, for so be told me, I haue good witnesse, for my owne wife was by, and lent mee part of the money.

And what did they cost you?

Ten shillings euery penny.

That argues you are guilty: Why? could ye buy so many rings and buttons of gold thinke ye for ten shillings? Of whome did ye buy them?

Of an olde French man, the olde French disease take him.

And where dwels that old French man?

In Fraunce I thinke, for he told me he was to goe ouer the next tide, or the next day, my wife can tell as wel as I, if ye thinke I lie, for she was by.

A good answere, he dwels in Fraunce and you dwel here, and for utering copper for gold you are like to loose both your eares vpon the pillorie, and bsides loose your freedome.

Nay, if I loose my eares, I care not for my fréedome, kéepe you my freedome, so I may kéepe my eares, is there no remedy for this M. Vsury?

None, except you can find out that old French man.

Peraduenture I can, if you'il let mee go into Fraunce to seeke him:

So we may loos you, and neuer see him, nay that may not be.

You haue a good pawne there, good maister Vsury be good vnto me.

Ny, now Ile pinch ye, you villaine, ye know how ye haue euer vsed me, but now off goes your eares at least,

Nay▪ good maister Vsurie take all my goodes and lt me go,

What's the matter Vsurie, that this poore knaue cries so:

O Maister Fraud, speake to him to let me goe:

Fraud? Ye villaine, cal me not by my name, and ye shall sée I wil speak to him to lt ye goe free: Vsury, of al old fellowship let this poore knaue packe, if the matter be not too hainous.

No sir, his fault is odious, look here what stuffe hee would vt∣ter for gold, flat copper, & he saith, he bought them of an old frenchman

But thou didst not sel them, didst thou?

No sir, I would haue but laid them to pawne for fiue pounds to him.

That was more than they be woorth, I promise thée a foule matter, wel, thou must loose thy ware and be glad to escape, so Vsurie, at my request ye shal let the poore man goe.

Wel, for this once I will, sirra, get ye packing, and take héede of such a peece of worke againe while ye liue.

There is diuers péeces of work in that box, pray ye giue me some of my goods againe, a ring or something.

Not an inch, and be glad ye scape as ye doe,

Alas, I am vndone, ther's al the wealth & stock I haue.

Do ye long to loose your eares, be gone ye foolish knaue.

I thanke ye Maister Fraud: Ile not goe so far, but Ile be néere to heare and see what the meaning of these fellowes in this canuas should be, for I know Fraud, Dissimulation, and simony to be those thrée: here I think I am vnséene. Simplicity hides him neer them.

Vsury, thanke me for this god bootie, for it is I that holy ye to it, for I sould them to him for gold indéed in the shape of an old French artificer, come giue me halfe for I deserue it, for my part was the first beginning of this Comedie, I was euer affraid, least the foole should haue knowne me, for ye see now though disguisde, hee cal∣me by my name.

Did a so? I am glad I haue found the french man, now Ile raise the street, but Ile haue my wares again, & prooue ye as ye were, euer both false knaues I beleeue. Exit sim.

Kil him, stab him, out villaine, he wil betray vs all.

What a foole were you to speake before e was gone, now you haue lost your part of this too, for he will goe complaine, you will bee sought for, and I made to restore these things againe.

Not if thou be wise, thou wilt not tarie the reckoning, for seest thou not vs three? Dissimulation simony and my selfe?

Yes: What meanes these canuas suites? Will yee be Sailers?

Vsury make one, this is our intent: let's sée that none heare vs now: the Spaniards are comming thou hearest with great power, here is no liuing for vs in London, men are growen so full of consci∣ence and religion, that Fraud, Dissimulation and Simony are disci∣phered, and being disciphered are also dispised: and therefore wee will slip to the sea, and meet and ioine with the enemie, and if they con∣quere as they may, for they are a great armie by report, our credite may rise againe with them, if they faile and retire, we may either goe with them and liue in Spaine, where we and such good fellowes are tollerated and vsed, or come sitly again hether, so long as none knows but friends.

But wil you do thus you two?

And thou too I hope, why, what should we do?

Whatsoeuer ye doe, be not traitors to your natiue countrie.

Tis not our natiue countrie, thou knowest, I Simony am a Roman, Dissimulation a Mongrel, half an Italian, halfe a Dutchman Fraud so too, halfe French, and halfe Scottish: and thy parentes were both Iewes, though thou wert borne in London, and here Vsu∣ry thou art cried out against by the preachers: ioine with vs man to better thy state, for in Spain preaching toucheth vs not.

o better my state, nay, to alter my state, for here where I am, I know the gouernment, here can I liue for all their threatning, if strangers peuaile, I know not their lawes nor their vsage, they may bée oppressore, & take al I haue, and it is like they are so, for they sk that's not their owne. Therfore here will I stay sure, to keepe what I haue, rather than be a traitor vpon hap and had I wist: and stay you if ye be wise, and pray as I pray, that the preachers and all other good men may die, and then we shall flourish, but neuer trust to strangers curtesie.

We shal trust but to our friends & kin, yo'il not go with vs, yet for old acquaintance kep counsel, betray vs not, for we'il be gone to sea, I am affraid yen foolish knaue haue belaied the stréets for vs.

Let me go afore ye, if any such thing be, Ile giue ye inkling. Exit

Do, farewel Vsury: and as he goes one way, we'il go another, follow sirs, nuer trust a shrinker, if he be your owne brother. Exeunt omnes.

I hope in this my dutie to discharge, as heretofore

Clubs, clubs, nay come neighbours come, for here they bee, here I left them, arrant theeues, rogues, cosoners, I charge ye as you wil answere, prebend them, for they haue vndone me, and robb'd me, and made me the poorest free man that euer kept a ballad stall:

I charge ye keepe the peace and lay downe your wea∣pons:To the three Lords.

Who rais'd this tumult? Speake, what meanes this stir?

O I am vndone, robb'd, spoil'd of all my stocke, let me see, where be they? Keepe euerie street and doore, samine all that comes for Fraud that cosoner.

Maisters, what meane you in these troublous times to keepe this coile?

Alas my Lord, her's a poore man rob'd, or cosoned.

Simplicity, away, these be our Lordes, offend them not for feare.

I séeke not them, I séeke for Fraud that rob'd me.

Go seeke els where, for here's no place for such.

I wil my Lord, come

we came too late to find your losses. Exeunt.

Pray for me my boies, I thin shal hang my selfe I come euer too late to speed.

I think it good, and time that it were done.

I think it good, and wish the enemie come.

And here they come, Oh proud Castillians.

What wouldst thou Herald?As Feal is going towards thē, they send foorth Sheal.

Parlle with those thrée, Herald.

They scorne to grace so meane a man as thou with parlie or with presence.

Rather wil I returne and know their mindes.

Now boy, what newes. When Sheal goes to thē, Wit goes to the 3. Lords of Lond.

Our shields I reck not, but to send our Wealth

Accompanied with Wit and Will, no peril.

Vaile Spaniard, couch thy Launce and pendent both, knowest where thou art? Here wil we beare no braues

Wel done my boies, but now all reuerence.

Aduaunce againe your Launces now my boies hold vp again

Dicito nobis ideo qui ades, quid sibi velint isthaec Emble∣mata? Dicito (inquam) lingua materna: nos enim omnes belle intelli∣gimus, quamuis Anglicè loqui dedignamur.

Buena buena per los Lutheranos Angleses.

Mala, mala per Catholicos Castillianos.

Loqueris Anglicè?

Maximè Domine.

Himselfe Ambition, whom the heauens do hate,

and Loue the Lady that he hopes to gaine,

The end is best you yeeld, submitting you to mercy of these Lords.

And would their Tyranny Conscience captiue haue?

Doth their Ambition Londons loue affect?

Shealty,

An Irish word, signifieng liberty, rather remisnes, loosnes if ye wil, why hath thy coat a burning ship behind?

to signify y^e burning of your fléet by vs Castilliās.

Quid tibi cum domini mox seruient miseri nobis: diseede.

Quid mihi cum dominis seruietis miseri meis▪

This Lucres fauour, Pomp for her will fight.

this Conscience fauour, she my mistresse is.

You crauen English n your donghils crowe.

You will not yéeld?

Yes, the last moneth.

Farewel. Retire Heraldes with the pages to their places.

Vade.

Herald, how now?

Yen proud Castillians looke for your seruice.

So do we for theirs: but Fealtie, canst thou declare to me the cause why all their pages follow them, when ours in showes do euer goe before.

In war they followe, and the Spaniard is warring in mind

Agréed, here Fealty, hang them vp a space.

Let them not yonder hang vnbackt, my Lords.

With good aduise, that we be not surprised, and good enough.

My selfe wil onset giue on Prides, at your Peacocke sir.

At Tyrannies wil I bestow my blow, wishing the maister.

I at Ambitions strike, haue at his pampered Iade.

Fuoro Viliagos, fuoro Lutheranos Angleses, fuoro sa, sa, sa.

With spéed and héede the matter must be done,

Therefore you Pollicie shall our leader be.

Lord pomp, wel met, and welcome home againe.

Lord pollicy, wel met, and welcome home againe.

Lord pleasure, welcome with vnfained heart.

Faire ioy and Lady xx. thousand thankes.

Faire Loue, and Lady, twise as many thankes·

Now speak my Lords, how haue ye sped?

The greatest gift and good could me befall.

Fair lucre, loe, my present and my self.

Which I with Nemos license gladly take.

the wished good this world could giue to me.

Of dutie I (my deere) must giue thee this, that art my comfort and my earthly blisse.

with pageants, plates, and what delights may be to entertaine the time and companie.

Ladies, adue. the Lords bring thē to the doore, & they go out & Ne.

Beloued, farewel. Fra. giues Pol. a paper, which he reads & then saie

Haue ye neuer serued any heretofore?

Yes, diuers my Lord, both beyond sea and here with your pa∣tience, my good Lord, not offending the same, I thinke I am your poore kinsman, your Lordship, pollicy, and I Skil, if it like ye.

You say verie well, and it is verie like, I will answere yee a∣non.

Is your name faire semblance that wish to serue me.

Please it your Lordship, fair semblance, I am wel séen, though I say it, in sundry languages, méet for your Lordship, or any noble ser∣uice, to teach diuers tongues, and other rare things.

I like ye verie well, stay a while for your answere,

Maister Vsury, I thanke ye that ye offer me your seruice, it séemes to be for your old maistresse sake, Lady lucre, stay but a while, I will answere you with reason.

How now my hearts, think ye we shal spéed.

Diligence, Come hether.

I cannot tell what you shal, but I am sure I shal.

I am as like as anie of ye both.

Fraud.

Whist man, he's Skil.

Cut hold thée content, Ile serue but a while, and serue mine owne turne and away.

Maister Vsury come hether, you desire to serue me, you haue done Lady Lucre good seruice you say, but it was against God and Conscience you did it, neither euer in your life did ye anie thing for Loue: Well to be short, serue me you shall not, and I would I could banish you from London for euer, or keepe you cloase prisoner, but that is not in me, but what is or may be, that strait you shall see: By pollicies counsell this shall be done, Diligence bring that yron, helpe me my Lords.

Giue me the yron Pomp, Cosen Skil help to hold him,

I would I had neuer seene ye, if this be your curtesie.

Agréed, but what's become of faire semblance my man.

A crafie villaine, perceiuing how we meant to Vsurie, slipt away.

M. Diligence, Do me fauour, you know I am a gentleman.

Step aside til my Lordes be gone, Ile doo for you what I can.

What's here my boy, what's here? pleasure, this suit is sure to you, for it's mad stuffe, and I know not what it meanes.

Neither doe I: sirra, your writing is so intricate, that you must speake your mind, otherwise, we shall not know your meaning.

You sue for three things here, and what be they tell them:

Cannot you thrée tell, and the suit to you thrée? I am glad a simple fellow yet, can go beyond you three greate Lordes of London. Why my suite, looke yee, is such a suite, as you are bound in honor to heare, for it is for the puppet like wealth, I would haue no new or∣ders, nor new sciences set vp in the citie, whereof I am a poore frée∣man, and please ye, as ye may read in my bil ther, simplicity fréeman. But my Lords, I would haue three old trades, which are not for the common wealth, put downe.

And after all this circumstance, sir what be they?

they be not thrée what lacke yees, as what do yee lacke, fine Lockerome, fine Canuas, or fine Holland cloath: or what lacke ye, fine Ballades, fine Sonets: or what lacke ye, a purse or a glasse, or a paire of fine kniues: but they be three, haue ye anies, which mee thinks are neither sciences nor occupations, and if they be trades, they are ve∣ry malapert trades, and more than reason.

As how sir? Name them.

Wil you banish them as readily as I can name them? the first is, hue ye any old yron, old male, or old harnis?

And what fault find ye with this?

What fault? I promise ye a great fault, what haue you or any man els to doo to aske me if I haue any old yron? What if I haue, or what if I haue not? Why should you be so saucie to aske?

Why foole, tis for thy good to giue thée money for that, that might lie and rust by thée.

No my Lord, no. I may not call you foole: it is to marke the houses where such stuffe is, that against rebels rise, there is harneis and weapon ready for them in such and such houses, and what then? the rustie weapon doth wound past surgerie, and kils the Quéens good subiects: & the rest of the old trash wil make them guns too, so it is good luck to find old yron, but tis naught to keep it, and the trade is crafty, and now my L. pollicy, I speak to you, t'were wel to put it downe.

Wisely said, which is your second? Is that as perillous?

Yea, and worse: It is, haue ye any ends of gold and silue? this is a perilous trade, couetous, and a ticement to murther, for, marke ye, If they that aske this should be euill giuen, as Gods forbod▪ they sée who hath this gold and siluer, may not they come in the night breake in at their houses, and cut their throates for it? I tell ye, gold and sil∣uer hath caused as much mischiefe to be done as that, down with it.

they that haue it need not shew it.

tush, they need ask no such question, many a man hath delight to shew what he hath, the trad's a ticing trade, downe with it:

Now your third sir:

that is the craftiest of all, wherein I am disbus's, for that goes vnder the colour of simplicity, haue ye any wood to cleane?

A perillous thing, what hurt is there in this sir?

O do you not perceiue the subtiltie? why sir, the Woodmongers hires these poore men to goe vp and downe with their betles & wed∣ges on their backs, crieng, haue ye any wood to cleaue, and laugh to see them trauell so loden with wood and yron: now sir, if the poore men go two or thrée daies and be not set a worke (as sometimes they doo) the Woodmongers pay them and gaine by it, for then know they there's no wood in the citie, then raise they the price of billets so bie, that the poore can buy none. Now sir, if these fellowes were barr'd from as∣king, whether there were wood to cleaue or not, the woodmongers néed not know but that there were wood, and so billets and fagots woulde be sold al at one rate, downe with this trade, we shall sit a cold els my Lords.

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

Yea, is it not? might ye not do wel to make me of your counsel I beléeue I could spie moe faults in a weeke, than you could mend in a moneth:

Wel, for these three faults the time serues not now to redresse:

No marie, for you three must be maried sodainly, and your feast must be dres:

Against which feast, repaire you to Diligence, and hee shal appoint you furniture and money, and a place in the show, till when farewell. Exeunt

Farewell my Lords, farewel my three Lords, and remember that I haue set ech of yee a fault to mend: wel, Ile go seek M. Diligēce that he may giue me forty pence against the feast sir reuerence:Exit

what is it M. Fraud, ye would demaund of me?Dil & Frau. step out

Sir this you know, though your selfe be a man of good recko∣ning, yet are yee knowen an offier vnto these thre Lords, and what discredit it were to me, being a noted mn to passe through the streets with you being officer, or if any of my friends should suspect me with you, and dog vs, and see me committed to Newgate, I were vtterly discredited, here is a purse sir, and in it two hundred Angels, looke sir, you shall tell them.

I meane not so sir, nor I wil not giue halfe of them to be suf∣fered to escape, for I haue done no offence, though it please them to im∣prision me, and it is but on commandement, I shal not stay long, but I will geue you this purse and gold in pawne to be true prisoner, onely giue me leaue to goe some other way, and home to my lodging, for my bootes and other necessaries, for there Ile leaue word I am ridden out of towne, and with al the hast that possibly I may, I wil meet you at Newgate, and giue you an Angell for your curtesie: there is the purse.

I hazard (as you know) my Lords displeasure herein, and yet to pleasure you I will venture this once, but I pray ye make hast that I be not shent, I would not for ten Angels it were knowen.

If I tarie aboue an hower, take that gold for your tarieng.

I do not feare that you'l forfeit so much for so litle cause. Exit.

Here come the Lords, let's show good counte∣nance man.

Deuotion, Desire, and Delight.

Which comes for Lucre?

I Desire.

Which for Conscience?

I Deuotion.

Which for Loue?

I Delight.

You shall be answered straight.

I can answere them quickly: ye cannot haue them, nor ye shall not haue them.

Stay pleasure, soft: My Lord Desire, you Lucre séeke, Desire of lucre (be it without reproch to you my Lord) is couetousnes which cannot be seperated long from that: read my Lord.

In golden letters on this stone is written Care.

Care with desire of lucre well agrees, the rather for that Londons Lucre may not be seperated from Londons Pompe, so you may take that stone if ye will, but the Lady you cannot haue.

And a stone is a cold comfor in steed of Lucre.

Deuotion to Conscience (I speake now to you my Lord that are learned) is sorrow for sinne, or in one word read.

On this sweating stone in brasse is set Remorse.

And that is your portion, for Conscience is bestowed on Lon∣dons Pleasure, because London maks a conscience what pleasure they vse and admit, and what time they bestowe therein, and to what end: s my Lord Deuotion, either that or nothing.

A stone is a hard lot in stod of a Ladie.

My Lord Delight, that to delight in Loue, you must I loue, for making choice of mine. Loue is my portion, and that Flint is yours.

Here in lead is written, Charitie: and what of this?

If you be (as I doubt not) honest delight in loue, then in the best sene, you can haue but Charitie, if you be (which I suspect not) o∣ther Delight in Loue, you must be noted for Concupiscence, and that you will blush to be: wel Charitie is your best, then that is your porti∣on: For, marke ye, Londons pollicy ioines with Londons Loue: to shew, that all our policie is for loue of Londons common wealth: and so our loue cannot be seperte from our pollicy, you beare this.

A Flint's a hard change for so faire a wife.

And thus Lords, Desire of Lucre may take Care, Deuotion of Conscience may haue Remorse, and Delight of Loue may haue Charitie, other recompence none.

And so we thrée leaue you three with Care, Remorse, & charity.

With Care and Remorse I sweare, ye doo leaue vs, but what charitie I cannot tell.

Wel. yet must we vse Charity though we faile of our desire, and we are answered with such reason as is not to be gainsaid.

Indeed my Lord your calling is to perswade to Charity, but if I vse patience, it shall be perforce.

Yet being so wisely warn'd, me thinks wée should be arm'd And take this in worth, that the world wonder no further, I wil take vp my hard burden of Remorse and be gone.

It is good to follow examples of good, Ile take this heauy burden of Care, and follow as I may.

Because Ile not be slagular, Ile frame my selfe to follow, ta∣king this cold portion of Charitie as my share. exit

Come on M. Didligence, I haue bene seeking ye, as a man should seek a load of hay in a néedles eie.

And why hast thou sought me (I pray thee) so earnestly?

What money, why? Do I owe thee any money?

Owe me? Tush, no man, what do ye talke of owing? Come, and yet I must haue some certaine sigillatum & deliberatum in prae∣sentia. Doo you not vnderstand sir? Fourty pence and furniture by my Lord pompes pointment, against the wedding day: to bee one of the show-makers, I doe not say shoo-makers, and yet they be honest men.

I vnderstand thée now, and thou shalt want neither mony nor furniture for that: sawest thou not Fraud lately?

No, a For ferit him, for if I could find him, I would make him fast ynough for cosoning me of ten shillings for certain copper buttons and rings, I thought to haue bene a haberdasher, and he hath made me worse than a hay-maker.

I may say to thee in counsell, but Ile haue no words of it, hee hath ouerreacht me too: but if thou spie him first, let me vnderstand, and if I see him first thou shalt haue knowledge, for Ile tell thee, but laugh not, he shewed me a purse with a hūdred pound in Angels, which he would deliuer me in pawne to be my true prisoner, because for his credite, e was loth to goe with me through the stréetes to Newgate: I refused it at first, but at last by his intreatie I was content to take his pawne, and thinking he had giuen me the right purse of golde, he had another like it, which he gaue me with counters, and so went a∣way, I neuer did see him since, but mum, no words of it.

No words quoth a, that's a state test, would you be coson'd so?

Wel, so it is now, come follow me for thy furniture and mo∣ney. exeunt

The coast is cleare, come follow Fraud and feare not, for who can discipher vs in this disguise, thus may we shufl into the showe with the rest, and see and not be seene, doing as they doo, that are at∣tired like our selues.

That is, to stand amongst them, and take as they take, torches or any thing to furnish the showe, now if we we can passe but this day vnseene, let to morrow shift for it slfe as it may, I promise thee Dis∣simulation thou art verie formall.

Picture here, picture there, let's follow our busines. Exeunt.

Thou shalt haue helpe, speake, what is the matter?

Diligence bring him bether, good Lordes and Ladies stay,

Is this true M. Skil?

It is true in a sort my Lord, I thought to bee pleasant with him being my old acquaince, and disguis'd my selfe like an old French Artificer and hauing a few copper knacks, I sold them to him to make sport for ten shillings, which money I am content to pay him againe so shall he haue no losse though he haue made a litle sport.

First giue him an Angell before my face. Simplicity, art thou pleased?

Truly I am pleas'd to take a good Angell for ten shillinges, speciouslie of such a debter as M. Fraud: but now I am to bee pleas'd otherwise, that is, to see him punished, I promise yee the people loue him wel, for they would leaue work and make halfe oliay to see him hanged.

That his punishment may please thee the better, thou shalt pu∣nish him thy selfe: he shall be bound fast to yen post, and thou shalt bee blindfold, and with thy torch shalt run as it were at tilt, charging thy light against his lips, and so (if thou canst) burne out his tongue, that it neuer speake more guile.

O Singulariter Nominatiuo, wise Lord pleasure: Genetiuo bind him to that poste, Datiuo, giue me my torch, Accusat. For I say he's a cosoner. Vocat. O giue me roome to run at him. Ablat. take and blind me. Pluraliter, per omnes casus. Laugh all you to see mee in my choller adust to burne and to broile that false Fraud to dust.

Wisely perfourm'd, but soft sirs, where is Fraud? O noble vil∣laine, gone whiles we beheld the other: Who loosed him? Who let him slip? wel, one day he wil pay for all: vnblind Simplicity.

How now, Haue I beated his lips? haue I warm'd his nose? and scortched his face? Let me see, how lookes the villaine? Haue I burned him?

Thou hast done more, for thou hast quite consumed him into nothing, looke, here is no signe of him, no not so much as his ashes.

Verie few ashes if there be any, ye may see what a hot thing anger is, I thinke that the Torch did not waste him so much as my wrath: wel, al London, nay, all England is beholding to me, for putting Fraud out of this world, I haue consum'd him & brought him to nothing & Ile tread his ashes vnder my feet, y^t no more Frauds shal euer spring of them: But let me sée, I shal haue much anger, for the Tanners wil misse him in their lether, the Tailors in cutting out of garments, the Shoo-maker in closing, the Tapsters in filling pots, and the verie oi∣stermen to mingle their oisters at Billinsgate, yet it is no matter the world is well rid of such a craftie knaue.