Part 11

DECEIT. Yonder’s Simplicity, whom I hate deadly, Has held the world too long; he’s but a fool, A toy will cozen him: if I once fasten on’t, I’ll make it such a nursery for hell, Planting black souls in’t, it shall ne’er be fit For Honesty to set her simples in. [_Aside._ SIM. Whoop, here’s the cozening’st rascal in a kingdom! The master-villain; has the thunder’s property, For if he come but near the harvest-folks, His breath’s so strong that he sours all their bottles. If he should but blow upon the world now, the stain would never get out again; I warrant, if he were ript, one might find a swarm of usurers in his liver, a cluster of scriveners in his kidneys, and his very puddings stuft with bailiffs. [_Aside._ DEC. I must speak fair to the fool. [_Aside._ SIM. He makes more near me. [_Aside._ DEC. ’Las, who has put that load, that carriage, On poor Simplicity? had they no mercy? Pretty, kind, loving worm; come, let me help it. SIM. Keep off, and leave your cogging.[255]—Foh, how abominably he smells of controversies, schisms, and factions! methinks I smell forty religions together in him, and ne’er a good one; his eyes look like false lights, cozening trap-windows. [_Aside._ DEC. The world, sweetheart, is full of cares and troubles, No match for thee; thou art a tender thing, A harmless, quiet thing, a gentle fool, Fit for the fellowship of ewes and rams; Go, take thine ease and pipe; give me the burden, The clog, the torment, the heart-break, the world: Here’s for thee, lamb, a dainty oaten pipe. [_Offers a pipe._ SIM. Pox a’ your pipe! if I should dance after your pipe, I should soon dance to the devil. DEC. I think some serpent, sure, has lick’d him over, And given him only craft enough to keep, And go no farther with him; all the rest Is innocence about him, truth and bluntness. I must seek other course; for I have learn’d Of my infernal sire not to be lazy, Faint, or discourag’d, at the tenth repulse: Methinks that world Simplicity now hugs fast, Does look as if’t should be Deceit’s at last. [_Aside, and exit._ SIM. So, so, I’m glad he’s vanished: methought I had much ado to keep myself from a smatch of knavery, as long as he stood by me; for certainly villany is infectious, and in the greater person the greater poison; as, for example, he that takes but the tick of a citizen may take the scab of a courtier. Hark, the reapers begin to sing! they’re come nearer, methinks, too.

_The Second Song._

_Happy times we live to see, Whose master is Simplicity; This is the age where blessings flow, In joy we reap, in peace we sow; We do good deeds without delay, We promise and we keep our day; We love for virtue, not for wealth, We drink no healths, but all for health; We sing, we dance, we pipe, we play, Our work’s continual holyday; We live in poor contented sort, Yet neither beg nor come at court._ SIM. These reapers have the merriest lives! they have music to all they do; they’ll sow with a tabor, and get children with a pipe.

_Enter a_ KING _with_ DECEIT.

DEC. Sir, he’s a fool, the world belongs to you; You’re mighty in your worth and your command, You know to govern, form, make laws, and take Their sweet and precious penalty; it befits A mightiness like yours: the world was made For such a lord as you, so absolute A majesty in all princely nobleness, As yourself is: but to lie useless now, Rusty or lazy, in a fool’s pre-eminence, It is not for a glorious worth to suffer. KING. Thou’st said enough. DEC. Now my hope ripens fairly. [_Aside._ SIM. Here’s a brave glistering thing looks me i’ the face, I know not what to say to’t. [_Aside._ KING. What’s thy name? SIM. You may read it in my looks, Simplicity. KING. What mak’st thou with so great a charge about thee? Resign it up to me, and be my fool. SIM. Troth, that’s the way to be your fool indeed; But shall I have the privilege to fool freely? KING. As ever folly had. [SIMPLICITY _gives the orb to King_. SIM. I’m glad I’m rid on’t. DEC. Pray, let me ease your majesty. KING. Thou? hence, Base sycophant, insinuating hell-hound! Lay not a finger on it, as thou lov’st The state of thy whole body: all thy filthy And rotten flatteries stink i’ my remembrance, And nothing is so loathsome as thy presence. SIM. Sure this will prove a good prince! [_Aside._ DEC. Still repuls’d? I must find ground to thrive on. [_Aside, and exit._ SIM. Pray, remember now You had the world from me clean as a pick, Only a little smutted a’ one side With a bastard got against it, or such a toy; No great corruption nor oppression in’t, No knavery, tricks, nor cozenage. KING. Thou say’st true, fool; the world has a clear water. SIM. Make as few laws as you can then to trouble it, The fewer the better; for always the more laws you make, The more knaves thrive by’t, mark it when you will. KING. Thou’st counsel i’ thee too! SIM. A little, ’gainst knavery; I’m such an enemy to’t, That it comes naturally from me to confound it. KING. Look, what are those? SIM. Tents, tents; that part o’ the world Shews like a fair; but, pray, take notice on’t, There’s not a bawdy booth amongst ’em all; You have ’em white and honest as I had ’em, Look that your laundresses pollute ’em not. KING. How pleasantly the countries lie about, Of which we are sole lord! What’s that i’ the middle? SIMP. Looks like a point, you mean, a very prick? KING. Ay, that, that. SIM. ’Tis the beginning of Amsterdam: they say the first brick there was laid with fresh cheese and cream, because mortar made of lime and hair was wicked and committed fornication. KING. Peace; who are these approaching? SIM. Blustering fellows: The first’s a soldier, he looks just like March.

_Enter a Land-Captain, with_ DECEIT _as a soldier._

DEC. Captain, ’tis you that have the bloody sweats, You venture life and limbs; ’tis you that taste The stings of thirst and hunger. L.-CAP. There thou hast nam’d Afflictions sharper than the enemy’s swords. DEC. Yet lets another carry away the world, Of which by right you are the only master; Stand curtsying for your pay at your return— Perhaps with wooden legs—to every groom, That dares not look full right upon a sword, Nor upon any wound or slit of honour. L.-CAP. No more; I’ll be myself: I that uphold Countries and kingdoms, must I halt downright, And be propt up with part of mine own strength, The least part too? why, have not I the power To make myself stand absolute of myself, That keep up others? KING. How cheers our noble captain? L.-CAP. Our own captain, No more a hireling: your great foe’s at hand, Seek your defence elsewhere, for mine shall fail you; I’ll not be fellow-yok’d with death and danger All my life-time, and have the world kept from me; March in the heat of summer in a bath, A furnace girt about me, and in that agony, With so much fire within me, forc’d to wade Through a cool river, practising in life The very pains of hell, now scorch’d, now shivering, To call diseases early into my bones, Before I’ve age enough to entertain ’em: No, he that has desire to keep the world, Let him e’en take the sour pains to defend it. KING. Stay, man of merit, it belongs to thee, [_Gives the orb to Land-Captain._

I cheerfully resign it; all my ambition Is but the quiet calm of peaceful days, And that fair good I know thy arm will raise. L.-CAP. Though now an absolute master, yet to thee Ever a faithful servant. [_Exit King._ DEC. Give’t me, sir, to lay up; I am your treasurer In a poor kind. L.-CAP. In a false kind, I grant thee: How many vild[256] complaints, from time to time, Have[257] been put up against thee? they have wearied me More than a battle sixteen hours a-fighting; I’ve heard the ragged regiment so curse thee, I look’d next day for leprosy upon thee, Or puffs of pestilence as big as wens, When thou wouldst drop asunder like a thing Inwardly eaten, thy skin only whole: Avaunt, defrauder of poor soldiers’ rights, Camp-caterpillar, hence! or I will send thee To make their rage a breakfast. DEC. Is it possible? Can I yet set no footing in the world? I’m angry, but not weary: I’ll hunt out still; For, being Deceit, I bear the devil’s name, And he’s known seldom to give o’er his game. [_Aside, and exit._ SIM. Troth, now the world begins to be in hucksters’ handling: by this light, the booths are full of cutlers! and yonder’s two or three queans going to victual the camp: hah! would I were whipt, if yonder be not a parson’s daughter with a soldier between her legs, bag and baggage! SOL. Now ’tis the soldier’s time; great Jupiter, Now give me leave to enter on my fortunes, The world’s our own. JUP. Stay, beguil’d thing: this time Is many ages discrepant from thine; This was the season when desert was stoopt to, By greatness stoopt to, and acknowledg’d greatest; But in thy time now desert stoops itself To every baseness, and makes saints of shadows: Be patient, and observe how times are wrought, Till it comes down to thine, that rewards nought. [_Chambers[258] shot off within._ L.-CAP. } Hah! what’s the news? SIM., _&c._ }

_Enter a Sea-Captain, with_ DECEIT _as a purser._

S.-CAP. Be ready, if I call, to give fire to the ordnance. SIM. Bless us all! here’s one spits fire as he comes; he will go nigh to mull the world with looking on it: how his eyes sparkle! DEC. Shall the Land-Captain, sir, usurp your right? Yours, that try thousand dangers to his one, Rocks, shelves, gulfs, quicksands, hundred, hundred horrors, That make[259] the landmen tremble when they’re told, Besides the enemy’s encounter? S.-CAP. Peace, Purser, no more; I’m vex’d, I’m kindled.—You, Land-Captain, quick deliver. L.-CAP. Proud salt-rover, Thou hast the salutation of a thief. S.-CAP. Deliver, or I’ll thunder thee a-pieces, Make night within this hour, e’en at high noon, Belch’d from the cannon: dar’st expostulate With me? my fury? what’s thy merit, land-worm, That mine not centuples? Thy lazy marches and safe-footed battles Are but like dangerous dreams to my encounters; Why, every minute the deep gapes for me, Beside the fiery throats of the loud fight; When we go to’t and our fell ordnance play, ’Tis like the figure of a latter day: Let me but give the word, night begins now, Thy breath and prize both beaten from thy body: How dar’st thou be so slow? not yet? then—— L.-CAP. Hold! [_Gives the orb to Sea-Captain._ DEC. I knew ’twould come at last. [_Aside._ S.-CAP. For this resign, Part thou shalt have still, but the greatest mine; Only to us belongs the golden sway; Th’ Indies load us, thou liv’st but by thy pay. DEC. And shall your purser help you? S.-CAP. No, in sooth, sir: Coward and cozener, how many sea-battles Hast thou compounded to be cabled up? Yet, when the fights were ended, who so ready To cast sick soldiers and dismember’d wretches Over-board instantly, crying, Away With things without arms! ’tis an ugly sight; When, troth, thine own should have been off by right; But thou lay’st safe within a wall of hemp, Telling the guns, and numbering ’em with farting. Leave me, and speedily; I’ll have thee ramm’d Into a culverin else, and thy rear[260] flesh Shot all into poach’d eggs. DEC. I will not leave yet: Destruction plays in me such pleasant strains, That I would purchase it with any pains. [_Aside, and exit._ S.-CAP. The motion’s worthy: I will join with thee, Both to defend and enrich majesty. SIM. Hoyday! I can see nothing now for ships; Hark a’ the mariners!

_The Third Song._

_Hey, the world’s ours, we have got the time by chance; Let us then carouse and sing, for the very house doth skip and dance That we do now live in: We have the merriest lives, We have the fruitfull’st wives Of all men; We never yet came home, But the first hour we come We find them all with child agen.[261]_

[_A shout within: enter two Mariners with pipe and can, dancing severally by turns for joy the world is come into their hands; then exeunt._ SIM. What a crew of mad rascals are these! they’re ready at every can to fall into the haddocks’ mouths: the world begins to love lap now.

_Enter a Flamen, with_ DECEIT _like a_ ——.[262]

FLAM. Peace and the brightness of a holy love Reflect their beauties on you! S.-CAP. Who is this? L.-CAP. A reverend shape! S.-CAP. Some scholar. L.-CAP. A divine one! S.-CAP. He may be what he will for me, fellow-captain, For I’ve seen no church these five-and-twenty years,— I mean, as people ought to see it, inwardly. FLAM. I have a virtuous sorrow for you, sir, And ’tis my special duty to weep for you; For to enjoy one world as you do there, And be forgetful of another, sir— O, of a better millions of degrees!— It is a frailty and infirmity That many tears must go for,—all too little. What is’t to be the lord of many battles, And suffer to be overrun within you? Abroad to conquer, and be slaves at home? Remember there’s a battle to be fought, Which will undo you if it be not thought; And you must leave that world, leave it betimes, That reformation may weep off the crimes: There’s no indulgent hand the world should hold, But a strict grasp, for making sin so bold; We should be careless of it, and not fond; Of things so held there is the best command. S.-CAP. Grave sir, I give thy words their deserv’d honour, And to thy sacred charge freely resign All that my fortune and the age made mine. [_Gives the orb to Flamen._ SIM. If the world be not good now, ’twill ne’er be good, There’s no hope on’t. DEC. I have my wishes here. [Aside.]—My sanctified patron, I’ll first fill all the chests i’ the vestry; then There is a secret vault for great men’s legacies. FLAM. Art not confounded yet, struck blind or crippled, For thy abusive thought, thou horrid hypocrite? Are these the fruits of thy long orisons, Three hours together; of thy nine lectures weekly, Thy swooning at the hearing of an oath, Scarce to be fetch’d again? Away, depart, Thou white-fac’d devil, author of heresy, Schisms, factions, controversies! now I know thee To be Deceit itself, wrought in by simony, To blow corruption upon sacred virtue. DEC. I made myself sure here: church fail me too! I thought it mere impossible, by all reason, Since there’s so large a bridge to walk upon ’Twixt negligence and superstition: Where could one better piece up a full vice? One service lazy, t’other over-nice; There had been ’twixt [’em] room enough for me; I will take root, or run through each degree. [_Aside, and exit._ SIM. Whoop, here’s an alteration! by this hand, the ships are all turned to steeples, and the bells ring for joy, as if they would shake down the pinnacles. How? the masons are at work yonder, the freemasons; I swear it’s a free time for them: hah! there’s one building of a chapel of ease; O, he’s loath to take the pains to go to church: why, will he have it in’s house, when the proverb says, The devil’s at home? These great rich men must take their ease i’ their inn:[263] they’ll walk you a long mile or two to get a stomach for their victuals, but not a piece of a furlong to get an appetite to their prayers. [_Flourish._

_Re-enter King with a Lawyer, and_ DECEIT _as a pettifogger_.

LAW. No more, the case is clear. SIM. ’Slid, who have we here? LAW. He that pleads for the world must fall to his business Roundly.—Most gracious and illustrious prince, Thus stands the case,—the world in Greek is _cosmos_, In Latin _mundus_, in law-French _la monde_; We leave the Greek, and come to the law-French, Or glide upon the Latin; all’s one business: Then _unde mundus_? shall we come to that? _Nonne derivatur a munditia_? The word cleanness, _mundus quasi mundus_, clean; And what can cleanse or mundify the world Better than law, the clearer of all cases, The sovereign pill, or potion, that expels All poisonous, rotten, and infectious wrongs From the vex’d bosom of the commonwealth? There’s a familiar phrase implies thus much— I’ll put you to your purgation,—that is, The law shall cleanse you. Can the sick world then, Tost up and down from time to time, repose itself In a physician’s hand better improv’d? Upon my life and reputation, In all the courts I come at, be assur’d I’ll make it clean. SIM. Yes, clean away, I warrant you; We shall ne’er see’t again. LAW. I grant my pills are bitter, ay, and costly, But their effects are rare, divine, and wholesome; There’s an _Excommunicato capiendo_, _Capias post K_, and an _Ne exeat regno_: I grant there’s bitter egrimony[264] in ’em, And antimony—I put money in all still, And it works preciously: who ejects injuries, Makes ’em belch forth in vomit, but the law? Who clears the widow’s case, and after gets her, If she be wealthy, but the advocate? Then, to conclude, If you’ll have _mundus a mundo_ clean, firm, Give him to me, I’ll scour him every term. FLAM. I part with’t gladly, take’t into thy trust, [_Gives the orb to Lawyer._ So will it thrive as thy intent is just. DEC. Pity your trampler,[265] sir, your poor solicitor. LAW. Thee? infamy to our profession, Which, without wrong to truth, next the divine one, Is the most grave and honourable function That gives a kingdom blest: but thou, the poison, Disease that grows close to the heart of law, And mak’st rash censurers think the sound part perish’d; Thou foul eclipse, that, interposing equity, As the dark earth the moon, mak’st the world judge That blackness and corruption have possess’d The silver shine of justice, when ’tis only The smoke ascending from thy poisonous ways, Cozenage, demurs, and fifteen-term delays: Yet hold thee, take the muck on’t, that’s thine own, The devil and all; but the fair fame and honour Of righteous actions, good men’s prayers and wishes, Which is that glorious portion of the world The noble lawyer strives for,—that thy bribery, Thy double-handed gripe, shall never reach to: With fat and filthy gain thy lust may feast, But poor men’s curses beat thee from the rest. DEC. I’ll feed upon the muck on’t, that awhile Shall satisfy my longings; wealth is known The absolute step to all promotion. KING. Let this be call’d the sphere of harmony, In which, being met, let’s all move mutually. LAW. } Fair love is i’ the motion, kingly love! FLAM., _&c._ }

[_In this last dance, as an ease to memory, all the former removes come close together; the_ DEVIL _entering, aims with_ DECEIT _at the world; but the world remaining now in the Lawyer’s possession, he, expressing his reverend and noble acknowledgment to the absolute power of majesty, resigns it loyally to its royal government; Majesty to Valour, Valour to Law again, Law to Religion, Religion to Sovereignty, where it firmly and fairly settles, the Law confounding_ DECEIT, _and the Church the_ DEVIL. FLAM. Times suffer changes, and the world has been Vex’d with removes; but when his glorious peace Firmly and fairly settles, here’s his place, Truth his defence, and majesty his grace.— We all acknowledge it belongs to you. LAW. } Only to you, sir. S.-CAP., _&c._ } [_They all deliver the orb up to the King._ FLAM. _Regis ad exemplum totus componitur orbis_, Which shews, That if the world form itself by the king, ’Tis fit the former should command the thing. DEC. This is no place for us. DEVIL. Depart, away! I thought all these had been corrupted evils, No court of virtues, but a guard of devils. [_Exeunt_ DECEIT _and the_ DEVIL. KING. How blest am I in subjects! here are those That make all kingdoms happy,—worthy Soldier, Fair Churchman, and thou, uncorrupted Lawyer, Virtue’s great miracle, that hast redeem’d All justice from her ignominious name. SIM. You forget me, sir. KING. What, Simplicity! Who thinks of virtue cannot forget thee. SIM. Ay, marry, my masters, now it looks like a brave world indeed: how civilly[266] those fair ladies go yonder! by this hand, they are neither trimmed, nor trussed, nor poniarded;[267] wonderment! O, yonder’s a knot of fine, sharp-needle-bearded gallants,[268] but that they wear stammel[269] cloaks, methinks, instead of scarlet: ’slid, what’s he that carries out two custards now under the porter’s long nose? O, he leaves a bottle of wine i’ the lodge, and all’s pacified; cry mercy. KING. Continue but thus watchful o’er yourselves, That the great cunning enemies, Deceit, And his too-mighty lord, beguile you not, And ye’re the precious ornaments of state, The glories of the world, fellows to virtues, Masters of honest and well-purchas’d fortunes, And I am fortunate in your partnership; But if you ever make your hearts the houses Of falsehood and corruption, ugliness itself Will be a beauty to you, and less pointed at: Spots in deformèd faces are scarce noted, Fair cheeks are stain’d if ne’er so little blotted. LAW. } Ever the constant servants to great virtue! FLAM., _&c._ } KING. Her love inhabit you! [_Exeunt all except_ JUPITER, PALLAS, _Soldier, and Scholar._ JUP. Now, sons of vexation, Envy, and discontent, what blame lay you Upon these times now? which does merit most To be condemn’d, your dulness or the age? If now you thrive not, Mercury shall proclaim You’re undeservers, and cry down your fame. Be poor still, scholar, and thou, wretch despis’d, If in this glorious time thou canst not prosper, Upon whose breast noble employments sit, By honour’s hand in golden letters writ; Nay, where the prince[270] of nobleness himself Proves our Minerva’s valiant’st, hopefull’st son, And early in his spring puts armour on, Unite your worths, and make of two one brother, And be each one perfection to the other; Scholar and soldier must both shut in one, That makes the absolute and complete man: So, now into the world; which, if hereafter You ever tax of foul, ingrateful crimes, Your dulness I must punish, not the times. SOL. } Honour to mighty Jupiter! SCHO. } [JUPITER _and_ PALLAS _ascend_. SOL. The world Is in a good hand now, if it hold, brother. SCHO. I hope, for many ages. SOL. Fare thee well, then; I’ll over yonder[271] to the most glorious wars That e’er fam’d Christian kingdom. SCHO. And I’ll settle Here, in a land of a most glorious peace That ever made joy fruitful, where the head Of him that rules, to learning’s fair renown, Is doubly deckt with laurel[272] and a crown, And both most worthily. SOL. Give me thy hand, Prosperity keep with thee! SCHO. And the glory Of noble actions bring white hairs upon thee! Present our wish with reverence to this place, For here’t must be confirm’d, or ’t has no grace. [_Exeunt severally._

EPILOGUE.

GENTLEMEN,