A Select Collection of Old English Plays: Originally Published by Robert Dodsley in the year 1744
General
A Select Collection of Old English Plays: Originally Published by Robert Dodsley in the year 1744
English drama
I beseech you here, good master judge,
A poor man’s cause to tender;
Condemn me not in wrongful wise,
That never was offender.
You know right well, my right it is,
I have not for to give!
You take away from me my due,
That should my corpse relieve.
The Commons of you do complain,
From them you devocate;
With anguish great and grievous words
Their hearts do penetrate.
From[235] right you fell unto the wrong,
Your private gain to win;
You violate the simple man,
And count it for no sin.
SISAMNES.
Hold thy tongue, thou prattling knave,
And give to me reward;
Else in this wise, I tell thee truth,
Thy tale will not be heard.
Ambidexter, let us go hence, and let the knave alone.
AMBIDEXTER.
Farewell, Small Hability, for help now get ye none.
Bribes hath corrupt him, good laws to pollute.
[_Exeunt._
SMALL HABILITY.
A naughty man that will not obey the king’s constitute.
With heavy heart I will return,
Till God redress my pain.
[_Exit._
_Enter_ SHAME, _with a trump black_.
SHAME.
From among the grisly ghosts I come,
From tyrant’s testy train;
Unseemly Shame of sooth I am,
Procured to make plain
The odious facts and shameless deeds
That Cambyses king doth use;
All piety and virtuous life
He doth it clean refuse.
Lechery and drunkenness
He doth it much frequent;
The tiger’s kind to imitate
He hath given full consent.
He nought esteems his Council grave,
Ne virtuous bringing up;
But daily still receives the drink
Of damned vice’s cup:
He can bide no instruction,
He takes so great delight
In working of iniquity,
For to frequent his spite:
As fame doth sound the royal trump
Of worthy men and trim,
So shame doth blow with strained blast
The trump of shame on him.
[_Exit_.
_Enter the_ KING, LORD, PRAXASPES, _and_ SISAMNES.
KING.
My judge, since my departure hence,
Have you used judgment right?
If faithful steward I ye find
The same I will requite.
SISAMNES.
No doubt, your grace shall not once hear
That I have done amiss.
PRAXASPES.
I much rejoice to hear so good news as this.
_Enter_ COMMONS’ CRY _running in, speak this verse,
go out again hastily._
COMMONS’ CRY.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account