shall be able perhaps to make you a capon [to your pay.[99]]
But to tell you the truth, we are the porter’s men, which early and late
Wait on such gentlemen as you, to open the court-gate.
Grim. Are ye servants then?
Will. Yea, sir; are we not pretty men?
Grim. Pretty men, quoth you? nay, you are strong men, else you could not bear these breeches.
Will. Are these such[100] great hose? in faith, goodman collier, you see with your nose:
By mine honesty, I have but one lining in one hose, but seven ells of rug.[101]
Grim. This is but a little, yet it makes thee seem a great bug.
Jack. How say you, goodman collier, can you find any fault here?[102]
Grim. Nay, you should [not] find fau’t, marry, here’s trim gear!
Alas, little knave, dost not sweat? thou goest with great pain,
These are no hose, but water-bougets,[103] I tell thee plain;
Good for none but such as have no buttocks.
Did you ever see two such little Robin ruddocks[104]
So laden with breeches? chill say no more, lest I offend.
Who invented these monsters[105] first, did it to a ghostly end,
To have a mail ready to put in other folks’ stuff,
We see this evident by daily proof.
One preached of late not far hence in no pulpit, but in a wain-cart,
That spake enough of this; but for my part,
Chill say no more: your own necessity
In the end will force you to find some remedy.
Jack. Will,[106] hold this railing knave with a talk, when I am gone:
I will fetch him his filling ale for his good sermon.
[Exit.
Will. Go thy way, Father Grim, gaily well you do say,
It is but young men’s folly, that list to play,
And mask awhile in the net of their own device;
When they come to your age, they will be wise.
Grim. Bum troth, but few such roisters come to my years at this day;
They be cut off betimes, ere they have gone half their journey:
I will not tell why: let them guess that can, I mean somewhat thereby.
Enter Jack with a pot of wine, and a cup to drink on.
Jack. Father Grim, because you are stirring so early,
I have brought you a bowl of wine to make you merry.
Grim. Wine, marry! this is welcome to colliers, chill swap’t off by and by:
Chwas stirring so early, that my very soul is dry.
Jack. This is stoutly done: will you have it warmed, Father Grim?
Grim. No; it is warm enough; it is very lousious[107] and trim.
’Tis musselden,[108] ich ween; of fellowship let me have another spurt,
Ich can drink as easily now, as if I satin my shirt.
Jack. By Cock, and you shall have it; but I will begin, and that anon,
Je bois a vous mon compagnon.[109]
Grim. J’ai vous pleigé, petit Zawne.[110]
Jack. Can you speak French? here is a trim collier, by this day!
Grim. What man! ich learned this, when ich was a soldier;
When ich was a lusty fellow, and could yerk a whip trimly,
Better than these boy-colliers, that come to the court daily:
When there were[111] not so many captious fellows as now,
That would torup[112] men for every trifle, I wot not how:
As there was one Damon, not long since taken for a spy;
How justly I know not, but he was condemned to die.
Will (aside.) This wine hath warmed him, this comes well to pass,
We shall know all now, for in Vino veritas.
Father Grim, who accused this Damon to King Dionysius?
Grim. A vengeance take him! ’twas a gentleman, one Master Crowsphus.
Will. Crowsphus! you clip the king’s language, you would have said Carisophus.
But I perceive now either the wind is at the south,
Or else your tongue cleaveth to the roof of your mouth.
Grim. A murrain take thilk wine, it so intoxicate my brain,
That to be hanged by and by I cannot speak plain.
Jack. You speak knavishly plain, seeing my master you do mock:
In faith, ere you go, I will make you a lobcock.
[Aside.
Father Grim, what say they of this Damon abroad?
Grim. All men are sorry for him, so help me God.
They say a false knave ’cused him to the king wrongfully;
And he is gone, and should be here to-morrow to die,
Or else his fellow, which is in prison, his room shall supply.
Chill not be his half for vorty shillings, I tell you plain,
I think Damon be too wise to return again.
Will. Will no man speak for them in this woful case?
Grim. No, chill warrant you, one Master Stippus is in place,
Where he may do good, but he frames himself so,
Whatsoever Dionysius willeth, to that he will not say no:
’Tis a subtle vox, he will not tread on thorns for none,
A merry harecop[113] ’tis, and a pleasant companion;
A right courtier, and can provide for one.
Jack. Will, how like you this gear? your master Aristippus also
At this collier’s hand hath had a blow!
But in faith, Father Grim, cannot ye colliers
Provide for yourselves far better than courtiers?
Grim. Yes, I trow: black colliers go in threadbare coats,
Yet so provide they, that they have the fair white groats.
Ich may say in counsel, though all day I moil in dirt,
Chill not change lives with any in Dionysius’ court:
For though their apparel be never so fine,
Yet sure their credit is far worse than mine.
And, by Cock, I may say, for all their high looks,
I know some sticks full deep in merchants’ books:
And deeper will fall in, as fame me tells,
As long as instead of money they take up hauks’ hoods and bells:
Whereby they fall into a swelling disease, which colliers do not know;
’T ’ath a mad name: it is called, ich ween, Centum pro cento.
Some other in courts make others laugh merrily,
When