_Resp._ People, what should I say? _People._ Nay, mass! I scannot tell: But we ignorams all would fain ye should do well. And how feel you yourself? better than ye did, trow? _Resp._ Till God send better hap, rather decay than grow: This bringeth me in a conceipt of jealousy-- Rather than much good would I speak with Policy. _People._ Was not he drowned, trow, last year, when Conscience was? _Resp._ I see him yonder appear; this cometh well to pass. _People._ Is this same he? _Resp._ Yea! _People._ An ich heard not you zo zai Chould zware a had be dead, or else clean run away! ACTUS QUARTI, SCENA TERTIA. [AVARICE.] RESPUBLICA. PEOPLE. _Avarice._ O most noble lady! that I have not, of late, Made to you relation how ye stand in state, Hath not been of negligence, nor to wo[r]k by stealth; But of my deep studies, devising for your wealth. _Resp._ To hear the truth thereof, I wished you to see. _People._ Doth you stud your brains, mas gentman!--pray you tell me!-- For our lady Ricepudding-cake's commodity? _Avar._ I devise what I can for the prosperity Of this Lady Respu[b]lica and her people. _People._ That lie, ere this, is flown as far hence as Poule steeple! I spray God, ye stud not, as cha hard of zome elves That study for the common profit of their own selves! _Avar._ To study for both your wealths, I am a debtor. _People._ Vay, then! as good ne'er a whit, as ne'er the better. _Avar._ I do nothing but compass therefore, without doubt. _People._ I vay, then! thee vent too far a compass about, Vor zome good might ha' be doon in all this season. _Avar._ So there is, if to perceive it ye had reason! _Resp._ Truly! I feel myself, hitherto, worse and worse. _People._ And I svele the same, both in my ground and my purse; Vive or zix year ago chad vowre kine to my pale; And, at this prezent hour, cham scarce worth a good cow tail; And that time chad a widge, and her vole and ten sheep; Now, I scan geat nothing, myzelf and my wife to keep. Then an chad, I be with the king's mass constable, Chould zet myself vorth prettily, and zo chwas able; Now, vor lack of a sallet, when my liege hath need, Cham vain to take an hat of God's good on my head. And vor God!--my dame, this is but small amendment! I scomport me to you: how thinketh your judgment? Compassing? ka! gentman! call ye this same compassing? And, whom shall we twain thank? you, for this compassing? _Avar._ No, sir! _People._ Now, by the compass that God compassed! _Resp._ Blame have they of God and man, that this compassed! _People._ A small compass more, now, may zoon compass, by th' rood! To make fowerty thousand volks hair grow through their hood! _Avar._ That is their own fault; not the fault of Policy.