CONSCIENCE. Then Lucre sits upon the stone of Care. LUCRE. And Conscience on the marble of Remorse. LOVE. Love on the flint of frozen Charity. Ladies, alas, what tattered souls are we. CONSCIENCE. Sorrow our hearts, and time our clothes hath torn. LUCRE. Then sit we down like silly souls forlorn, And hide our faces that we be not known; For Sorrow's plagues tormenteth[252] me no more, Than will their sight, that knew me heretofore. LOVE. Then will their sight, that knew us heretofore, Draw ruth and help from them for our relief. CONSCIENCE. For our relief? for Conscience and for Love No help, small ruth that our distress may move. LOVE. O Conscience, thou wouldst lead me to despair, But that I see the way to hope is fair, And hope to heaven directs a ready way, And heaven to help is prest to them that pray. LUCRE. That pray with faith, and with unfeign'd remorse, For true belief and tears make prayer of force. CONSCIENCE. Then veil ourselves, and silent let us stay, Till heaven shall please to send some friends this way. [_Sit all down_. [_Enter_ FRAUD, DISSIMULATION, &c.] FRAUD. Ladies, unmask[253]! blush not for base attire: Here are none but friends and servants all. Dear Lady Lucre, Dearer unto us than daily breath we draw from sweetest air, Dearer than life, dearer than heaven itself, Deign to discover those alluring lamps, Those lovely eyes more clear than Venus' star, Whose bright aspects world's wonder do produce. Unveil, I say, that beauty more divine Than Nature (save in thee) did ever paint, That we, sworn slaves unto our mistress, may Once more behold those stately lovely looks, And do those duties which us well beseems, Such duties as we all desire to do. CONSCIENCE. I know that tongue. Lucre, beware of Fraud. LUCRE. Of Fraud! Indeed by speech it should be he. Fraud, what seekest thou? FRAUD. Lucre, to honour thee with wit, with worth, with all I have; To be thy servant, as I was before, To get thee clothes, and what thou wantest else. LUCRE. No, Fraud, farewell: I must be won no more To keep such servants as I kept before. SIMONY. Sweet Lady Lucre, me thou mayest accept. LUCRE. How art thou called? SIMONY. Simony. LUCRE. Aye? No, sir; Conscience saith. CONSCIENCE. No; Lucre now beware, false not thy faith, For Simony's subject to perpetual curse. DISSIMULATION. As you two have sped, I would desire to speed no worse. FRAUD. Make you a suit: you may chance to speed better. DISSIMULATION. Not I, for of all my tongue is best known; But if I speak, it shall be to her that was once mine own. Good Lady Love, thou little knowest the grief That I, thy friend, sustain for thy distress, And less believest what care I have of thee. Look up, good Love, and to supply thy wants Ask what thou wilt, and thou shalt have of me, Of me, that joy more in thy liberty Than in this life or[254] light that comforts me.