SIMPLICITY. Citizens born and courtiers brought up! I think so; for they that be born in London are half courtiers, before they see the court: for fineness and mannerliness, O, passing! My manners and misbehaviour is mended half in half, since I gave over my mealman, and came to dwell in London: ye may see time doth much. Time wears out iron horseshoes: time tears out milstones: time seasons a pudding well; and time hath made me a free man, as free to bear water and sell ballads as the best of our copulation. I would have thought once my horse should have been free as soon as myself, and sooner too, for he would have stumbled with a sack of meal, and lien along in the channel with it, when he had done; and that some calls freedom. But it's but a dirty freedom, but, ye may see, bad horses were but jades in those days. But soft: here comes customers. What lack ye? What is't ye lack? What lack ye? Come along, and buy nothing. Fine ballads! new ballads! What lack ye? _Enter_ NEMO _and the three Lords_. NEMO. My lords, come on. What suits have you to me? POLICY. Renowned Nemo, the most only one That draws no breath but of th'eternal air, That knowest our suit before we bound to speak, For thou art the very Oracle of thoughts; Whose virtues do encompass thee about, As th'air surrounds this massy globe of earth; Who hast in power whatever pleaseth thee, And canst bestow much more than we may crave, To thee we seek; to thee on knees we sue, That thou wilt deign from thraldom to release Those lovely dames, that London ladies are. NEMO. What, those three caitiffs, long ago condemn'd? Love, Lucre, Conscience? well-deserving death, Being corrupt with all contagion: The spotted ladies of that stately town? POMP. Love, Lucre, Conscience, we of thee desire, Which in thyself hast all perfection, Accomplished with all integrity, And needest no help to do what pleaseth thee; Which holdest fame and fortune both thy slaves, And dost compel the Destinies draw the coach, To thee we sue, sith power thou hast thereto, To set those ladies at their liberty. PLEASURE. At liberty, thou spotless magistrate, That of the cause dost carry all regard, Careless of bribes, of birth and parentage, Because thyself art only born to bliss. Bless us so much, that lords of London are, That those three ladies, born and bred with us, May by our suits release of thraldom find. NEMO. Release, my lords! why seek ye their release, That have perpetual prison for their doom? POLICY. But Nemo can from thence redeem them all. NEMO. Their deeds were cause, not Nemo, of their thrall. POMP. Yet Nemo was the judge that sentence gave. NEMO. But Nemo never spill'd, whom he could save. PLEASURE. Thou from perpetual prison may'st revoke. POLICY. Death hath no power 'gainst him to give a stroke. POMP. Thou only mild and courteous sir, vouchsafe To grant our suit, and set those ladies free. NEMO. What is your purpose in this earnest suit?