own estate secretly.
Friendship is dead in court, hypocrisy doth reign;
Who is in favour now, to-morrow is out again:
The state is so uncertain that I, by my will,
Will never be courtier, but a collier still.
Will. It seemeth that colliers have a very[114] trim life.
Grim. Colliers get money still: tell me of troth,
Is not that a trim life now, as the world go’th?
All day though I toil with my main and might,
With money in my pouch I come home merry at night,
And sit down in my chair by my wife fair Alison,
And turn a crab in the fire,[115] as merry as Pope John.
Jack. That pope was a merry fellow, of whom folk talk so much.
Grim. H’ad to be merry withal, h’ad gold enough in his hutch.
Jack. Can gold make men merry? they say, who can sing so merry a note,
As he that is not able to change a groat?[116]
Grim. Who sings in that case, sings never in tune. I know for my part,
That a heavy pouch with gold makes a light heart;
Of which I have provided for a dear year good store,
And these benters,[117] I trow, shall anon get me more.
Will. By serving the court with coals, you gain’d all this money.
Grim. By the court only, I assure ye.
Jack. After what sort, I pray thee tell me?
Grim. Nay, there bate an ace (quod Bolton[118]); I can wear a horn and blow it not.
Jack. By ’r Lady, the wiser man.
Grim. Shall I tell you by what sleight I got all this money?
Then ich were a noddy indeed; no, no, I warrant ye.
Yet in few words I tell you this one thing,
He is a very fool that cannot gain by the king.
Will. Well said, Father Grim: you are a wily collier and a brave,
I see now there is no knave like to the old knave.
Grim. Such knaves have money, when courtiers have none.
But tell me, is it true that abroad is blown?
Jack. What is that?
Grim. Hath the king made those fair damsels his daughters,
To become now fine and trim barbers?
Jack. Yea, truly, to his own person.
Grim. Good fellows, believe me, as the case now stands,
I would give one sack of coals to be wash’d at their hands,
If ich came so near them, for my wit chould not give three chips,
If ich could not steal one swap at their lips.
Jack. Will, this knave is drunk, let us dress him.
Let us rifle him so, that he have not one penny to bless him,
And steal away his debenters[119] too.
[Aside.
Will. Content: invent the way, and I am ready,
Jack. Faith, and I will make him a noddy.
[Aside.
Father Grim, if you pray me well,[120] I will wash you and shave you too,
Even after the same fashion as the king’s daughters do:
In all points as they handle Dionysius, I will dress you trim and fine.
Grim. Chuld vain learn that: come on then, chill give thee a whole pint of wine
At tavern for thy labour, when ’cha money for my benters here.
[Here Will fetcheth a barber’s bason, a pot with water,[121] a razor, and cloths, and a pair of spectacles.
Jack. Come, mine own Father Grim, sit down.
Grim. Mass, to begin withal, here is a trim chair.
Jack. What, man, I will use you like a prince. Sir boy, fetch me my gear.
Will. Here, sir.
Jack. Hold up, Father Grim.
Grim. Me-seem my head doth swim.
Jack. My costly perfumes make that. Away with this, sir boy: be quick.
Aloyse, aloyse,[122] how pretty it is! is not here a good face?
A fine owl’s eyes, a mouth like an oven.
Father, you have good butter-teeth full seen.
[Aside] You were weaned, else you would have been a great calf.
Ah trim lips to sweep a manger! here is a chin,
As soft as the hoof of an horse.
Grim. Doth the king’s daughters rub so hard?
Jack. Hold your head straight, man, else all will be marr’d.
By’r Lady, you are of good complexion,
A right Croyden sanguine,[123] beshrew me.
Hold up, Father Grim. Will, can you bestir ye?
Grim. Methinks, after a marvellous fashion you do besmear me.
Jack. It is with unguentum of Daucus Maucus, that is very costly:
I give not this washing-ball to everybody.
After you have been dress’d so finely at my hand,
You may kiss any lady’s lips within this land.
Ah, you are trimly wash’d! how say you, is not this trim water?
Grim. It may be wholesome, but it is vengeance sour.
Jack. It scours the better. Sir boy, give me my razor.
Will. Here at hand, sir.
Grim. God’s arms! ’tis a chopping knife, ’tis no razor.
Jack. It is a razor, and that a very good one;
It came lately from Palermo,[124] it cost me twenty crowns alone.
Your eyes dazzle after your washing, these spectacles put on:
Now view this razor, tell me, is it not a good one?
Grim. They be gay barnacles, yet I see never the better.
Jack. Indeed they be a young sight, and that is the matter;
But I warrant you this razor is very easy.
Grim. Go to, then; since you begun, do as [it] please ye.
Jack. Hold up, Father Grim.
Grim. O, your razor doth hurt my lip.
Jack. No, it scrapeth off a pimple to ease you of the pip.
I have done now, how say you? are you not well?
Grim. Cham lighter than ich was, the truth to tell.
Jack. Will you sing after your shaving?
Grim. Mass, content; but chill be poll’d first, ere I sing.
Jack. Nay, that shall not need; you are poll’d near enough for this time.
Grim. Go to then lustily, I will sing in my man’s voice:
Chave a troubling base buss.
Jack. You are like to bear the bob, for we will