A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 03 — John Shaqi
A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 03
General
A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 03
English drama
PERV. DOC. Alack, alack, now my good sister is gone,
Whose presence to enjoy is more pleasant unto me,
That any thing whatsoever in the world could be.
Good occasion have I such a sister to embrace,
For by her means I live and enjoy this place,
Which yet I possess as long as I may,
And have heretofore many a fair day.
For since these new heretics, the devil take them all,
In all corners began to bark and to bawl
At the Catholic faith and the old religion,
Making of them both but matters of derision;
Hypocrisy hath so helped at every need,
That but for her hardly were we like for to speed.
For be our case never so nigh driven to the worst,
Though her means by some means take no place at the first:
Yet some means doth she find, by some means at the length,
That her ways do prevail, and her matters get strength.
She can find out a thousand guiles in a trice,
For every purpose a new strong device.
No matter so difficile for man to find out,
No business so dangerous, no person so stout,
But of th' one she is able a solution to make,
And th' other's great peril and mood for to slake.
And in fine, much matter in few words to contain,
She can find out a cloak for every rain.[23]
What person is there, that beareth more sway
In all manner of matters at this present day
Throughout the whole world, though of simple degree,
And of small power to sight she seem for to be?
Consider all trades and conditions of life,
Then shall you perceive that Hypocrisy is rife
To all kind of men and of every age,
So far as their years them therein may give knowledge:
Lo, here a large field, where at length he may walk,
Who list of this matter at the full for to talk.
To declare of what power and of what efficacy,
In every age, country and time is Hypocrisy.
But I may not about such small points now stand:
The affairs they be greater, that I have in hand.
Ignorance is the cause that I so long tarry here,
And behold where the blind buzzard doth appear.
Come on, thou gross-headed knave, thou whoreson ass, I say,
Where hast thou been, since we departed to-day?
_Enter_ IGNORANCE.
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.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account