WIT

Well Will, still you'll be a saucy Scab. Will is a good boy where better is none. Exeunt he . Lords. Oh be quiet good Will: It was but for sport, for I know the bird else, And what's the word? A very pretty one, I would it were in rhyme. Because it wants reason. Now Will my thumb wags, it was but to his word. And so he hath Will. Yes, he wears a chain. Let's reason no further for we shall have glee, Here is a challenger to our shields, step we aside. Yea, have you not herd that the fly hath her spleen And the Ant her gall? Three, are you sure? That I shall not? No, possible you will not let me sing. Well then, to our bargain, six Ballads to six stripes, and who shall keep stakes? Down with your breeches, I'll fetch a rod and deliver them straight. You speak too late gaffar, having challenged pre-eminence. Agreed, who shall begin? You mistake the fish, trust me I am sure 'tis give place, but begin with good grace. Now sirs, which sings best? I dwelled with him. Indeed they that use a good conscience cannot suddenly be rich, But I'll not dwell with you, you are too simple a master for me. I serve my Lord policy · And policy seldom regards such a trisle. Me thinks you do, and it's pretty, that simplicity Hath got to his wife plain painful Penury. Simplicity, away, these be our Lords, offend them not for fear. Veil Spaniard, couch thy Lance and pendent both, knowest where thou art? Here will we bear no braves What's the reason of this Falcon, I pray thee Will show. Who would have thought that will had be philosophous, But what means the word pour temps in the shield, for time? A crafty Goose, the Gander gives him health, Bade pollici is seldom found in so Christian a common wealth, As London is I trust, where my master is a Lord. and so may wealth, be it employed in pride, And will worst of all, when it disdains a guide. Would, would, would. I thank you sir. But you laugh a great while, and you laugh very loud, Have you not wares to fell gaffar? Scutcheons. Wealth is a proud boy, gaffar what say you to Me? If I Like your name and science, perchance wee'il agree To stand long with your burden, me thinks you should be weary Farewell Master simplicity. Exeunt. What's the matter you call us back so suddenly. Citizens born and courtiers brought up: Is this all? Fare well. Exit. I wiss he says true will, this wealth is a gay lad, Will, you are will fool, if of him you be not glad. I hope we' l not fallen out being none but we three. Let pass, and of our shields (sirs) let's make a little glee, Treason, to what, boy? Look will, and guess. Is't not a great Butterfly, Will, canst thou to ll? A Tortoys my boy, whose shell is so hard, that a loaded art may go over and not break it, and so she is safe within, and where soever she goes, she bears it on her back, needing neither other succour or shilter but her shell: the word underneath her is Proui dens securus, the provident is safe, Like to the Tortoys, armed with his own defence, and defended with his own armour: in shape somewhat round, signifying compass, wherein always the provident foresee to keep themselves within their own compass, my boy. No whit ashamed sir of that that we are, nor ashamed at all of those whom we serve, for boys we be, and as we be, we serve the three Lords of London, to weet, policy, pomp, and pleasure. Welcome sir, how so? why do you entertain me so kindly? I cannot dwell with you for I have a master already. Oh, the fineness of the wares (man) deserve to have good place. Our masters be, we wait on this beware, and yet we are no chapmen. And me a little. True, for if three fools were one fool, that were a great fool. But how are we double chapboies? Point to Simplicity. It is a doleful discourse, and sung as dolefully. What will you lay on that? For I my self dare lay six groats to six of your bald Ballads, that you your self shall say I sing bet ter than you. And so my master hath the vantage will you or no, pomp and pleasure may be ill. The fearful Herald of Then famous crew Durst not your message to his masters tell, Till Fealty with contumelions words, (Yet was the Spaniard brave and hight in terms) Inforced him for their answer resolute. The Span. whisper with their Her.