PETER. And so, sir, as I was about to tell you, This same Presco and this same Cracko be both my parishioners now; And, sir, they fell out marvellously together about you: This same Cracko took your part, and said that the clergy Was upholden by you, and maintained very worshipfully. So, sir, Presco he would not grant that in no case, But said that you did corrupt the clergy, and dishonour that holy place. Now, sir, I was weary to hear them at such great strife, For I love to please men, so long as I have life: Therefore I beseech your mastership to speak to Lady Lucre, That I may be her chaplain, or else to serve her. SIMONY. What is your name? PETER. Sir Peter. SIMONY. What more? PETER. Forsooth, Pleaseman. SIMONY. Then, your name is Sir Peter Pleaseman? PETER. Ay, forsooth. SIMONY. And please-woman too, now and then? PETER. You know that _homo_ is indifferent.[187] SIMONY. Now, surely, a good scholar in my judgment! I pray, at what university were ye? PETER. Of no university, truly. Marry, I have gone To school in a college, where I have studied two or three places of divinity. And all for Lady Lucre's sake, sir, you may steadfastly believe me. SIMONY. Nay. I believe ye. But of what religion are you, can ye tell? PETER. Marry, sir, of all religions: I know not myself very well. SIMONY. You are a Protestant now, and I think to that you will grant? PETER. Indeed I have been a Catholic: marry, now for the most part, a Protestant. But, and if my service may please her--hark in your ear, sir-- I warrant you my religion shall not offend her. SIMONY. You say well; but if I help you to such great preferment, Would you be willing that for my pain I shall have yearly half the gain? For it is reason, you know, that if I help you to a living, That you should unto me be somewhat beholding. PETER. Ay, sir; and reason good; I'll be as your mastership please: I care not what you do, so I may live at ease. SIMONY. Then, this man is answered. Sir Peter Pleaseman, come in with me, And I'll prefer you straightway to my lady. PETER. O sir, I thank ye. [_Exeunt_. _Enter_ SIMPLICITY, _with a basket on his arm_. SIMPLICITY. You think I am going to market to buy roast meat, do ye not? I thought so; but you are deceived, for I wot what I wot. I am neither going to the butcher's to buy veal, mutton, or beef, But I am going to a bloodsucker; and who is it? faith, Usury, that thief. Why, sirs, 'twas no marcle[188] he undid my father, that was called Plain-Dealing, When he has undone my lady and Conscience too with his usuring. I'll tell ye, sirs, trust him not, for he'll flatter bonfacion[189] and sore, Till he has gotten the baker vantage; then he'll turn you out of door. _Enter_ DISSIMULATION. DISSIMULATION. Simplicity, now of my honesty, very heartily well-met.