CONSCIENCE. How can you say you trust in God whenas you him forsake, And of the wicked Mammon here do make your feigned friend? No, no; these words which you recite against you mostly make, For thus he thinks in his distress: God cannot me defend, And therefore by Suggestion frail to man's help he hath lean'd. Mark who say truth, of him or me, and do him best believe. PHILOLOGUS. I like thy words, but that to lose these joys it would me grieve. CONSCIENCE. And where Suggestion telleth thee, that God in mercies flow, Yet is he just sins to correct, and true in that he speak; Wherefore he sayeth: whoso my name before men shall not know, I shall not know him, when as judge I shall sit in my seat. This if you call to mind, it will your proud presumption break. Again he sayeth, whoso his life or goods will seek to save, Shall lose them all; but who for Christ will lose them, gain shall have. SUGGESTION. What, did not Peter Christ deny, yet mercy did obtain, Where, if he had not, of the Jews he should have tasted death? PHILOLOGUS. Even so shall I in tract of time with bitter tears complain. SUGGESTION. Yea, time enough, though thou deferr'st until thy latest breath. CONSCIENCE. So sayeth Suggestion unto thee; but Conscience it denyeth, And in the end what so I say for truth thou shalt espy, And that most false which Conscience shall in secret heart deny. PHILOLOGUS. Ah, wretched man! what shall I do? which do so plainly see My flesh and spirit to contend, and that in no small thing, But as concerning the event of extreme misery; Which either study to avoid, or else upon me bring: And which of them I should best trust, it is a doubtful thing. My Conscience speaketh truth, methink; but yet because I fear By his advice to suffer death, I do his words forbear. And therefore pacify thyself, and do not so torment Thyself in vain: I must seek some means for to eschew These griping griefs, which unto me I see now imminent; And therefore will no longer stay, but bid thee now adieu. CONSCIENCE. O, stay, I say, Philologus, or else thou wilt it rue! PHILOLOGUS. It is lost labour that thou dost: I will be at a point, And to enjoy these worldly joys I jeopard will a joint. [_Exit_ PHILOLOGUS _and_ SUGGESTION. CONSCIENCE. O cursed creature, O frail flesh, O meat for worms, O dust, O blather puffed full of wind, O vainer than these all! What cause hast thou in thine own wit to have so great a trust, Which of thyself canst not espy the evils which on thee fall? The blindness of the outward man Philologus show shall, At his return unless I can at last make him relent; For why the Lord him to correct in furious wrath is bent. [_Exit_ CONSCIENCIA. ACT V., SCENE 3.