Part 9

_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.