HONESTY.
And yet you are Cutbert the Coneycatcher, The bailiff's son of Hexham, whose father, being dead, The devil carried to hell for his knavery.
How sayest thou, art not thou his son?
This grave black cloak makes you so proud, You have forgotten who was your father.
CONEYCATCHER.
Nay, I have not forgotten that my father was a bailiff, A man that would live to himself.
And yet, in faith, he gave me nothing at his death But good counsel, how to live in the world.
But, sirrah, as thou knowest me, I pray thee, bewray me not, And in anything I can, command me.
HONESTY.
Tush! fear not me, I will be as secret as thyself.
But, sirrah, 'tis thus, if thou wilt do one thing, I shall tell thee, I will give thee an hundred pound: 'Tis nothing with thee, I am sure.
CONEYCATCHER.
Tush! tell me what it is; I'll do it, I warrant thee.
HONESTY.
Nothing but this; to swear upon a book That thou sawest a gentleman pay a farmer Four hundred pound, as the last payment of a farm That the said gentleman bought of him.
CONEYCATCHER.
Tush! if this be all, let me alone, I will do it.
Why, 'tis nothing for me to swear, For I am forsworn already: but when is the day?
HONESTY.
Why, to-morrow,
CONEYCATCHER.
But where shall I meet you?
HONESTY.
Why, upon the Exchange at eight o'clock.
CONEYCATCHER.
I will not miss: till that time, farewell. [_Exit_.
HONESTY.
Fare well? [_Aside_.] Nay, you will scant fare well By that time I have done: but I must about my business, To find some knack to know this knave at large.
[_Exit_.
_Enter_ ETHENWALD.
ETHENWALD.
The night draws on, And Phoebus is declining towards the west.
Now shepherds bear their flocks unto the folds, And wint'red oxen, foddered in their stalls, Now leave to feed, and 'gin to take their rest: Black, dusky clouds environ round the globe, And heaven is covered with a sable robe.
Now am I come to do the king's command; To court a wench, and win her for the king: But if I like her well, I say no more, 'Tis good to have a hatch before the door.
But first I will move her father to prefer The earnest suit I have in canvassing, So may I see the maid, woo, wed, Ay, and bed her too. Who is here? what ho!
_Enter_ OSRICK.
OSRICK.
Earl Ethenwald, welcome. How fares our friends at court?
What cause constrains your honour, that thus late You visit us, that dream not of your coming?
ETHENWALD.
My lord, I am come unlooked-for, very true; So is my coming yet conceal'd from you.
OSRICK.
Your honour shall repose you here to-night, And early as you please begin your task; Time serves not now. Come, Ethenwald, As welcome as the king himself to me.
ETHENWALD.
Now, Ethenwald, if fortune favour thee, Thou may'st prove happy love to Alfrida. [_Exeunt_.
_Enter_ HONESTY, _and the_ KING _disguised_.
HONESTY.
This is the place, and this th'appointed time. I know He'll keep his word, for he thinks me his friend.
KING.
But tell me, Honesty, am I not well disguised?
Can any man discern me by my looks To be the king? Take heed of that, For then our game is marr'd: and hast Thou promised him what reward he shall have?
HONESTY.
Tush! fear not you; for you never knew honest man Dissemble with his friend, though many friends Dissemble with honest men. But, my lord, The cards be shuffled, and here comes a knave.
_Enter_ CONEYCATCHER.
CONEYCATCHER.
'Tis strange to see how men of our knowledge live, And how we are hated of the baser sort, Because, forsooth, we live upon our wit: But let the baser sort think as they will, For he may best be termed a gentleman, That, when all fails, can live upon his wit.
And if all fails, then have I got a wench That cuts and deals to maintain my expense.
Now I use her, as men use sweetest flowers, That while they are sweet and pleasant to the eye.
I do regard them for their pleasant smell; But when their colour fades, and scent decays, I cast them off for men to trample on.
But to the purpose: here is the gentleman, My honest friend did lately tell me of. [_Aside_.
Sir, though I had another business of import, That might have hind'red me from coming here, Yet in regard I am loth to break my word, I have set my other business clean apart, Because you should not judge amiss of me.
HONESTY.
I find you kind, sir, and yourself shall see How I will labour to requite your courtesy.
[_To the_ KING.] This is the honest man I told you of, One that will do your pleasure in the cause, So be it you will content him for his pains.
KING.
Else God forbid: and, good sir, thus it is, I bought a farm of one that dwells here by, And for an earnest gave an hundred pound: The rest was to be paid as six weeks past.
Now, sir, I would have you as witness, That at my house you saw me pay three hundred pound, And for your pains I will give you a hundred pound; Besides, I will stand your friend in what I may.
You hear the cause; What, will your conscience serve you to do it?
CONEYCATCHER.
How say you, sir? My conscience? then you touch me!
I tell you, sir, my conscience will serve me to do more than this.
Why, I have been a post-knight[300] in Westminster this twelve year, And sworn to that which no one else would venture on.
Why, I have sworn against mine own father for money: I have sworn right or wrong--any ways--for money, When I have received money before witness, I swore to the contrary; And do you misdoubt me in so slight a matter as this, When I have sworn against father, mother, and all my kin?