NEMO

My Lords come on, what suits have you to me? What, those three caitiefs long ago condemned? Love, Lucre, Conscience, well deserving death, Being corrupt with all contagion: The spotted Ladies of that stately town. Release my Lords? why seek you their relase? That have perpetual prison for their doom. Their deeds were cause, not Nemo of their thrall. But Nemo never spilled, whom he could save: What's your purpose in this earnest suit? But may it be that men of your regard, Lords of such fortune, and so famous place, Will link your selves with Ladies so forlorn, And so disteined with more then common crimes? Mean as you say, you need to say no more. Woo them & win them, win them & wear the ̄ too, I shall both comfort and discourage you my Lords, The comfort's this, of all those former crimes· Wherewith the world was wont those dams to charge I have them cleared and made them all as free As they were born: no blemish left to see. But the discourage (gentle Lords) is this, The time of their endurance hath be long, Whereby their clothes of cost and curious stuff Are worn to rags, and give them much disgrace. Yes, diverse for fair L credit sought release, And some for Love would feign have paid the sees, But silly Conscience sat without regard, In Sorrows dungeon, sighing by her self: W ich when I saw that some did sue for Love, And most for Lucre, none for Conscience: A vow I made, which now I shall perform, Till some should sue to have release for all, Judged as they were, they should remain in thrail: But you that crave their freedoms all at once Shall have your suit, and see them here ere long, A little while you must have p tience, And leave this place: go in my Lords before. Not so: but Lordings, he condition more You promise me, sith they are in my power, I shall dispose them when they are released Upon you three, as I shall think it best. Then go your ways, for I have here to do. Exeunt 3. Lord Sorrow draw near, to morrow bring thou forth Love, Lucre, Conscience, whom thou hast in thrall, Upon these stones to fit, and take the air, But set no watch or espial what they do. Exeunt ambo. Conscience, Love, Lucre, Ladies all what cheer? How do you Like the seats you fit upon. So should remorse when Conscience feels her gilded But gentle Love how feelest thou thy flint? Oh Love, so cold is charity in these times: Lucre, how fit you? Such force hath Care of Lucre in it self, To cool the heart and draw the vital spirits, And such the true condition of you three: Remorse of Conscience, Charity of Love, And Care of Lucre, such your uses be: But Ladies now your sorrow lay aside, Frolic fair Dams, and unexpected good Is imminent through me unto you all: Three Lords there be your native countrymen, In London bred, as you your selves have be. Which covet you for honourable wives, And presently will come to visit you, Be not abashed at your base attire, I shall provide you friends to deck you all. If I command, stand up, else fit you still. Enter the 3. Lord . Lo, where they come: my Lords the Dams be here. It is for your sake, for Policy they do it: You shall in time Lord Pomp, be yet consent. Pleasure, be pleased and use no prejudice. Madames stand up, mislike not their attire, That shall be mended as your selved desire. Yes Lordings yes, Lucre, lift up thy veil. Unmask Love. Conscience, uncover. Enough for once, Ladies fit down again: As cunning chapmen do by curious wares, to the audie Which seldom shown do most inflame the mind, So must I deal, being dainty of these Dams, Who seldom seen shall best allure these Lords: A while my Lords, I leave you with these three, Converse, confer on good conditions, I will right soon return with such good friends As it concerns to cloth these dainty one If any in my absence visit them, Know their intent, and use your skill therein. Exi No whispering friend, but show it openly, The matter good, you needs not be ashamed: From whom comest thou? From whom come you sir? Then speak aloud, for whispering here is barred. Then I will speak and tell what you are both, Thy self art Falsehood, and art sent from Fraud, To compass Lucre with a cloak of craft, With lawn of lies, and call of golden guile. Thou from Dissimulation art sent, And bringest a gown of glossing, lived wish lust, A Vardingale of haine boast, and fan of flattery, A Ruff of riot, and a cap of pride, And double dealing is thy name and office both. lucre censumes being wone by Fraud or shift, Thus Lords you see how these are qualified, And how these Ladies shun that sharp rebuke, Which some deserve by taking of such toys, As women weak are tempted soon with gifts, But here they come that must these Ladies deck. lucre, arise, come from the stone of Care: Thou mayest depart with honest Industry. love, follow zeal and take his ornaments. Exit Love with p. zeal Follow him Consc. fear not, thou art right. Exit Con. with Si Lordings, thus have you seen them at the first, And thus you see them, trust me, at the worst, Depart we now, come hence a day or two, And see them decked as dainty Ladies should, And make such choice as may content you all. From whence good Lords grew this hight argument? Conscience content thee with a quaint conceit, Conceal thy name to work a special good, Thou art not known to any of these Lords, By face or feature, till they hear thy name, Which must be lucre for a fine device, And Conscience clear indeed's the greatest gain, Lo, Lordings here fair lucre whom you love: lucre, the choice is left unto thy self, Which of these three thou wilt for husband choose. Lo, Lucre, men, and port, and Pleasant life Are here propounded, Which wilt thou accept? What if I deny? My Lords, no quarrel, let to is Lady go, And if you trust me. I'll content you both, pleasure, this is not lucre: It is enough, Lord pleasure, do not fear, Conscience will use you as becomes her best. My Lords be pleased, ere long shall you be sped, As much to your contents as pleasure is, Say but the word my self shall soon present Lucre and love, well worthy such as you. And I from hence will her convey a space, Till you return with happy victory. Exeunt Ne. & Con. The day is ours, fair Ladies let us joy, The joyful day that all men may rejoice, Yet only I am thankful for this good. And your good day at hand approaches fast. Wherein you shall be joined to three such Lords, As all the cities under heavens bright cope, Cannot with all their glory match in worth, Lucre, Lord Pomp a victor comes to thee: Love, look thou for Lord policy aswell: And Conscience for her well reformed Fere, pleasure, that only made his choice of her. Upon that day triumphant shall we feast, Wherein (Madames) your honours nil be least. And here they come with new ymprezed shields, My Lords well met, and welcome from your foes. Now speak my Lords, how have you sped? In lieu whereof your gift and her I give Again to you, that merit more than both. Take her Lord pomp, I give her unto thee, Wishing your good may ten times doubled be. Now Lords, I h pe you are contented all, pomp with his Lucre, policy with Love: pleasure with Conscience, joy fallen you from above: And thus to you my promise is performed, And I expect that yours aswell be kept, That present preparation may be made to honour those with holy marriage rites, that I in presence of the world may give these as my daughters unto you my sons. So it please you Lordings, me thinks it were meet, that the Ladies took care to provide their own toys. My self need to help them, who know their minds well, For I can keep women both quiet and constant. My Lords of Lincoln, have you such title and such interest To Love, Lucre, and Conscience, as you say? Who gave you leave to have access to them? I am their father by adoption, I never knew of Love betwixt them and you: And to perpetual prison they were doomed, From whence I only might deliver them. Which at the suit of three most matchless Lords, Their countrymen, in London bred as they, I have performed and freed them from their bonds, And yet have bound them in their freedom too To Policy, to pleasure, and to pomp, Three Lords of London, whose they are in right, Contracted wives, and done by my consent, And even to morrow is the marriage day, Except your coming stay or break it off, I will go call their Lords to answer you, The (pvnder covert Baron) meddle not. Exit. These Lords and Ladies thus to church are gone, And honoured Actium to solemnize there, With greater joy will they return anon, Than Caesar did in Room his Laurel wear. Lord policy hath Love unto his Fere. Lord pomp hath Lucre to maintain his port, Lord pleasure Conscience to direct his sport. Usury is marked to be known, Dissimulation Like a shadow fleets, And Simony is out of knowledge grown, And Fraud unfound in London but by fits. Simplicity with painful penury sits. For Hospitality that was wont to feed him, Was slain long since and now the poor do need him. That Hospitality was and honest man, But had few friends (alas) if he had any, But Usury which cut his throat as than Was succoured, and sued for by many. Would Liberality had be by thy side, Then Hospitality, thou hadst never died. But what mean I, one of the marriage train, To mourn for him will never be had again. His Ghost may walk to mock the people rude: Ghosts are but shadows, and do sense delude: I talk too long, for so this lovely crew Are coming back, and have performed their endue. Thus Lords you show your imperfections: Subject to passion, straining honours bounds, Be well advised, you promised to be ruled, And have those Dams, by me disposed to you, But since I see that human humours oft Makes men forgetful of their greater good. Be here a while, Dame lucre shall be brought By me, to choose which Lord she liketh best, So you allow her choice with patience. Exit. No less accomplished in perf ction Is Conscience, then this Lady I protest,