PENNYBOY SENIOR

Oh, no, your services, my Princely Lady, Cannot with too much zeal of rites be done, They are so sacred. You are a noble, young, free, gracious Lady, And would be every bodies, in your bounty, But you must not be so. They are a few That know your merit, Lady, and can valew't. Your self scarce vnderstan S your proper powers. They are almighty, and that we your servants, That have the honour here to stand so near you, Know; and can use too. All this Nether-world Is yours, you command it, and do sway it, The honour of it, and the honesty, The reputation, I, and the religion, (I was about to say, and had not erred) Is Queen Pecunia's. For that style is yours, If mortals knew your Grace, or their own good. Best to take Advice of your graven women, Noble Madame, They know the state o'your body, and ha'studied Your Graces health. Well said, Master Secretary, I stood behind And h ard thee all. I honour thy dispatches. If they be rude, untrained it our method And have not studied the rule, dismiss them quickly, Where's Lickfinger my Cook? that unctuous rascal? Hee'll never keep his hour, that vessel of kitchenstuff! Here he is come, Sir. Pox upon him kidney, Always too late! What? The piles, The plague, and all diseases light on him, Knows not to keep his word. I'd keep my word sure! I hate that man that will not keep his word, When did I break my word? Half a year: To me that stands upon a minute of time. I am a joust man, I love still to be joust. Believe you, he that list. You stayed of purpose, To have my venison stink, and my fowl mortified, That you might have them— Perhaps it is. Will you go in, and view, and valve all? Yonder is venison sent me! fowl! and fish! In such abundance! I am sick to see it! I wonder what they mean! I would told them of it! To burden a weak stomach! and provoke A dying appetite! thrust a sin upon me I never was guilty of! nothing but gluttony! Gross gluttony! that will undo this Land! I, that same's A crying sin, a fearful damned device, Eats up the poor, devours them— Against your graven great Solons? Numae Pompilij, they that made that Law? To take away the poor's inheritance? It was their portion: I will stand to't. And they have robbed them of it, plainly robbed them, I still am a joust man, I tell the truth. When moneys went at Ten i'the hundred, I, And such as I, the servants of Pecuniam, Could spare the poor two out of ten, and did it, How say you, Broker ? Very little, They have bound our hands With their wise solemn act, shortened our arms. What licence, Knave? Informer? A saucy Jack you are, that's once; What said I, Broker ? have you provided me my bushel of eggs? I did bespeak? I do not care how stale, Or stinking that they be; let them be rotten: For ammunition here to pelt the boys, That break my windows? It's well, go in, take hence all that excess, Make what you can of it, your best: and when I have friends, that I invite at home, provide me Such, such, and such a dish, as I bespeak; One at a time, no superfluity. Or if you have it not, return me money; You know my ways. How knave? It's true, Sir, I do indent you shall return me money. I love it still. And therefore if you spend The red-Deere pies i'your house, or fell them forth, Sir, Cast so, that I may have their coffins all, Returned here, and piled up: I would be thought To keep some kind of house. And then remember meat for my two dogs: Fat flaps of mutton; kidneys; rumps of veil; Good plenteous scraps; my maid shall eat the relics. Who's here? my Courtier ? and my little Doctor? My Mustermaster ? and what Plouer's that They have brought to pull? Do, for I know the rest, They are the Jeerers, mocking, flouting Jacks. HOw now old Money-Bawd ? w'are come— What is't? I do not love pickl worser security, Would I had one good Freshman in for all; For truth is, you three stink. I think I am, but I will lend no money On that security, Captain. He has and odd singing name, is he and Heir? Y'aue said enough. I have no money, Gentlemen, And he go to't in rhyme once, not a penny His beard has time to grow. I have no money: Let him still dabble in Poetry. No Pecuniam Is to be seen. Will you go in, knave? You are all cogging Jacks, a Couy of wits, The Jeerers, that still call together at meals: Or rather and Airy, for you are birds of prey: Peny-boy thrusts him in. And fly at all, nothing's too big or high for you. And are so truly feared, but not beloved One of another: as no one dares break Company from the rest, lest they should fallen, Upon him absent. I, now you jeer, jeer on; I have no money. You all have happy memories, Gentlemen, In rocking my poor cradle. I remember too, When you had lands, and credit, worship, friends, I, and could give security: now, you have none, Or will have none right shortly. This can time, And the vicissitude of things. I have All these. and money too, and do possess them, And am right heartily glad of all our memories, And both the changes. He's glad he is rid of his torture, and so soon. Broker, come hither, up, and tell your Lady, She must be ready presently, and Statute, Band, Mortgage, Wax. My prodigal young kinsman Will straight be here to see her; 'top of our house, The flourishing, and flaunting Peny-boy. We were but three of us in all the world, My brother Francis, whom they called Franck Peny-boy, Father to this: he's dead. This Peny-boy, Is now the heir! I, Richer Peny-boy, Not Richard, but old Harry Peny-boy, And (to make rhyme) close, wary Peny-boy I shall have all at last, my Hope's do tell me. Go, see all ready; and where my dogs have faulted, Remove it with a broom, and sweeten all With a slice of juniper, not too much, but sparing, We may be faulty our selves else, and turn prodigal, In entertaining of the Prodigal. Here he is! and with him—what! a Clapper Dudgeon! That's a good sign; to have the beggar follow him, So near at his first entry into fortune. HOw now old Uncle? I am come to see thee. And the brave Lady, here, the daughter of Ophir, They say thou keepest. Sweet Nephew, if she were The daughter of the Sun, she's at your service, And so am I, and the whole family, Worshipful Nephew. But with commission? But what is this old Gentleman? Not use my money, cogging Jack, who uses it At better rates? lets it for more i'the hundred, Then I do, Sirrah? What? to disgrace me, with my Queen? as if I did not know her value. Hold your peace, Young Pe ny-boy is angyry. You are a Jack. Uncle, he shall be a John, And, you go to that, as good a man as you are. And I can make him so, a better man, Perhaps I will too. Come, let us go. Nay, kinsman, My worshipful kinsman; and the top of our house; Do not your penitent uncle that affront, For a rash word, to leave his joyful threshold, Before you see the Lady that you long for. The Venus of the time, and state, Pecuniam! I do perceive, your bounty loves the man, concealed virtue, that he hides Under that see ags. That's not so good, it should ha'bin a Crucible, With melted mettle, she had understood it. Whither you please, Sir, You shall command her. Thanks unto your bounty; He is my Nephew, and my Chief, the Point, Old Peny-boy thanks her, but makes his condition. Tip, Top, and Tuft of all our family! But, Sir, conditioned always, you return Statute, and Band home, with my sweet, soft Wax, And my good Nurse, here, Mortgage. By Broker. She shall go with you, Whither you please, Sir, any where. I'll not draw That charge upon your worship. But Mass Broker, here, He shall attend you, Nephew; her Graces Usher, And what you fancy to bestow on him, Be not too lavish, use a temperate bounty, I'll take it to my self. Where is't you eat? He has good cheer; perhaps I'll come and see you. Broker, be careful of your charge. To speak with me? You know it's death for me to speak with any man. What is he? set me a chair. What? Well bring your six in. Where have you left Pecuniam ? Bring six. He must pardon me, I cannot rise, a diseased man. It is no pride in me! But pain, pain; what's your errand, Sir, to me? He sends Broker back. Broker, return to your charge, be Argus -eyed, Awake, to the affair you have in hand, Serve in Apollo, but take heed of Bacchus. Go on, Sir. It's pain for me to speak, a very death, But I will hear you! Would? He pretends infirmity. I am somewhat short In my sense too— OF that side, Very imperfect, on— My hearing is very dead, you must speak quicker. Would? I hear you better now, how come they in? Is it a certain business, or a casual? For I am loath to seek out doubtful courses, Run any hazardous paths, I love straight ways, A joust, and upright man! now all trade totters. The trade of money, is fallen, two i'the hundred. That was a certain trade, while the age was thrifty, And men good husbands, looked unto their stocks, Had their minds bounded; now the public Riot Prostitutes all, scatters away in coaches, In footmen's coats, and waiting women's gowns, They must have velvet haunches (with a pox) Now taken up, and yet not pay the use; He talks vehemently and aloud. Bore of the use? I am mad with this times manners. I, but and anger, a joust anger, (as this is) Puts life in man. Who can endure to see The fury of men's gullets, and their groins? Is moved more and more. What fires, what cooks, what kitchens might be spared? What Stews, Ponds, Parks, Coupes, Garners, Magazines? What velvets, tissues, scarves, embroideries? And laces they might lack? They covet things— Superfluous still; when it were much more honour They could want necessary! What needs hath Nature Of silver dishes? or gold chamberpots? Of perfumed napkins? or a numerous family, To see her eat? Poor, and wise she, requires Meat only; Hunger is not ambitious: Say, that you were the Emperor of pleasures, The great Dictator of fashions, for all Europe, And had the pomp of all the Courts, and Kingdoms, Laid forth unto the show? to make your self Gazed, and admired at? You must go to bed, And take your natural rest: then, all this vanishes. Your bravery was but shown; 'twas not possessed: While it did boast it self, it was then perishing. All that ex cease Appeared as little yours, as the Spectators. It scarce fills up the expectation Of a few hours, that entertains men's lives. Why should I not? Is it not under mine own roof? my feeling? But you came, why then Go, as you came, heres no man holds you, There, There lies your way, you see the door. I think I am Sir, truly. My surnames: Still you loose your labour. I am a broken vessel, all runs out: A shrunk old Dryfat. Fare you well, good Six. I am abused, where is my Knave? my Broker? It breeds my unrest. No, cogging Jack, Thou and thy cups too, perish. What through sleep, and Sack, My trust is wronged: but I am still awake, He would have Pecu niam home. But she refuseth. And her Train. To wait upon your Grace, please you to quit This strange lewd company, they are not for you. Noble? how noble! who hath made him noble? Women Jeerers! Have you learned too, the subtle faculty? Come, I'll show you the way home, if drink, Or, too full diet have disguised you. Why? you whores, My bawds, my instruments, what should I call you, Man may think base enough for you? I am cheated, robbed Jeered by confederacy. Well, re member, I am cozened by my Cousin, and his whore! Bane o'these meetings in Apollo ! Saucy Jack away, Pecuniam is a whore. The Rogue is drunk, Since I committed them to his charge. Come hither, He smells him. Near me, yet nearer; breath upon me. Wine! Wine, o'my worship! sack! Canary sack! Could not your Badge have been drunk with fulsome Ale? Or Beer? the Porters element? but sack! Who paid for't? What? and spend sixpence! A Frock spend sixpence! sixpence! In seven years, varlet! Knowest thou what thou hast done? What a consumption thou hast made of a State ? It might please heaven, (a lusty Knave and young) To let thee live some seventy years longer. Till thou art fourscore, and ten ; perhaps, a hundred. Say seventy years how many times seven in seventy ? Why, seven times ten, is ten times seven, mark me, I will demonstrate to thee on my fingers, Six -pence in seven year (use upon use) Grows in that first seven year, to be a twelve -pence. That, in the next, two -shillings; the third four -shillings; The fourth seven year, eight -shillings; the fifth, sixteen : The sixth, two and thirty ; the seventh, three-pound four, The eighth, six pound, and eight ; the ninth, twelve pound sixteen ; And the tenth seven, five and twenty pound, Twelve Shillings. This thou art fallen from, by thy riot! Shouldst thou live seventy years, by spending sixpence, Once i'the seven: but in a day to wast it! There is a Sum that number cannot reach! Out o'my house, thou pest of prodigality! Seed of consumption! hence, a wicked keeper Is oft worse then the prisoners. There's thy penny, Four tokens for thee. Out, away. My dogs, May yet be innocent, and honest. If not, I have and entrapping question, or two more, To put unto them, a cross Interrogatory, And I shall catch them; Lollard ? Peace, What whispering was that you had with Mortgage, He calls forth Lol lard, and examines him. When you last licked her feet? The truth now. Would? Did you smell she was going? Put down that. And not, Not to return? You are silent. good. And, when Leaped you on Statute? As she went forth? Consent. There was Consent, as she was going forth. 'Twould have been fitter at her coming home, He commits him again. But you knew that she would not? To your Tower, You are cunning, are you? I will meet your craft. Block, show your face, leave your caresses, tell me, Calls forth Block, and examines him. And tell me truly, what affronts do you know Were done Pecuniam ? that she left my house? None, say you so? not that you know? or will know ? I fear me, I shall find you and obstinate Cur. Why, did your fellow Lollard cry this morning? Because Broker kicked him ? why did Broker kick him? Because he pist against my Ladies Gown? Why, that was no affront? no? no distaste? You knew of none. Yo'are a dissembling Tike, Commits him. To your hold, again, your Block -house. Lollard, arise, Where did you lift your leg up, last? against what? Lollard is called again. Are you struck Dummerer now? and whine for mercy? Whose Kirtle was't, you gnawed too? Mistress Bans? And Waxe's stockings? who did? Block bescumber Statutes white suit? with the parchment lace there? And Brokers Satin doublet ? all will out. They had offence, offence enough to quit me. Block is sum ̄ moaned the second time. Appear Block, fough, it's manifest. He shows it, Should he for-sweare't, make all the Affadauits, Against it, that he could afore the Bench, And twenty Juries ; he would be convinced. He is re manded- He bears and air about him, does confess it! To prison again, close prison. Not you Lollard, You may enjoy the liberty o'the house, Lollard has the liberty of the house. And yet there is a quirk come in my head, For which I must commit you too, and close, Do not repine, it will be better for you. This is enough to make the dogs mad too, Let's in upon him. How now? what's the matter? Come you to force the prisoners? make a rescue? They are not bail able, They stand committed without bail, or mainprise, Your bail cannot be taken. Who is the Butcher, Amongst you, that is come to cut my throat? And from your jaw bone, Done Assinigo? Nor you no Office, as I take it. Like you, turned Geese. You are a Jack, Sir. Rogues, Rascals ( His dogs bark. baw waw) Peny-boy See. acknow ledgeth his elder bro there. Who's this? my brother! and restored to life! Wise, and honoured brother! None but a Brother, and sent from the dead, As you are to me, could have altered me: I thank my Destiny, that is so gracious. Are there no pains, no Penalties decreed From whence you come, to us that smother money, In chests, and strangle her in bags. I thank you Brother for the light you have given me, I will prevent them all. First free my dogs, Lest what I have done to them (and against Law ) Be a Premuniri, for by Magnam Chartam They could not be committed, as close prisoners, My learned counsel tells me here, my Cook. And yet he showed me, the way, first. Next, I restore these servants to their Lady, With freedom, heart of cheer, and countenance; It is their year, and day of Jubilee. And lastly, to my Nephew, I give my house, goods, lands, all but my vices, Her Train thanks him. And those I go to cleanse; kissing this Lady Whom I do give him too, and join their bans. I have no money, gentlemen. You say very right, My meritorious Captain, (as I take it!) Merit will keep no house, nor pay no house rend. Will Mistress Merit go to mercat, think you? Set on the pot, or feed the family? Will Gentry clear with the Butcher? or the Baker? Fetch in a Phessant, or a brace of Partridges, From goodwife Poulter, for my Ladies supper. This rogue has money though, My worshipful brave Courtier has no money. No, nor my valiant Captain. Nor you, my learned Doctor. I loved you Whil you did hold your practice, and kill tripe wives. And kept you to your urinal; but since your thumbs Have greased the Ephemerides, casting figures, And turning over for your Candle-rents, And your twelve houses in the Zodiac: With your Almutens, Alma cantaras, Troth you shall cant alone for Peny-boy. What you please, gentlemen, I am of that humble nature and condition, Never to mind your worships, or take notice Of what you throw away, thus. I keep house here Like a lame Cobbler, never out of doors, With my two dogs, my friends; and (as you say) Driven a quick pretty trade, still. I get money: And as for Titles, be they Rogue, or Rascal, Or what your worships fancy, let them pass As transitory things; they're mine to day, And yours to morrow. You see how I do blush, and am ashamed Of these large attributes? yet you have no money. Thank your dog-leech craft. They were 'holesome piles, afore you meddled with them. Oh yes! if grace would strike The brewers Tally, or my good Lords hand, Would quit the scores. But Sir, they will not do it, Here's a piece, my good Lord piece, does all. Goes to the Butehers fetches in a muton, He shows a piece. Then to the Bakers, brings in bred, makes fires, Gets wine, and does more real Courtesies, Then all my Lords, I know: My sweet Lord piece! You are my Lord, the rest are cogging Jacks, Under the Rose. True Captain, if you durst Beatrice any other. I should believe you, but indeed you are hungry; You are not angry Captain, if I know you Aright; good Captain. No, Pecuniam, Is to be seen, though Mistress Band would speak, Or little Blushet- Wax, be never so easy, I'll stop mine ears with her, against the Sire's, Court, and Philosophy. God be with you, Gentlemen, Provide you better names. Pecuniam is for you. A worshipful place! It's my civility, when I do not relish The party, or his business. Pray you be gone, Sir. I'll have no venture in your Ship, the Office Your Bark of Six, if'twere sixteen, good, Sir, I am for Justice, when did I leave Justice? We knew 'twas theirs, they'had right and Title to't. Now— Where is Broker? Are not these flies gone yet? pray quit my house, I'll smoke you out else. Vouchsafe my towards kinsman, gracious Madame, The savour of your hand. Why, an'I will not Talk with you, Sir? you are answered, who sent for you? You will overflow— And spill all. This hour? Your Graces pleasure be observed, but you Statute, and Band, and Wax, will go with me.