Recently Recovered "Lost" Tudor Plays with some others
History
Recently Recovered "Lost" Tudor Plays with some others
English drama -- Early modern and Elizabethan, 1500-1600; Interludes, English; Moralities, English
[ILL-WILL _and_] WIT _returneth_.
_Ill-W._ Here is none of our acquaintance:
We have made too long tarriance--
That will ye say, perchance;
And they be gone home, come away apace.
_Wit._ Nay, by God! not so hasty;
A little while we will tarry.
Good even, sir, to you, marry!
Dwell ye in this place?
_Rem._ Nay, good fellow! I dwell not here:
Wherefore dost thou that inquire?
Holdest thou aught with any here?
Speak! be not afraid!
_Ill-W._ By God! I would I had your gown,
And were a mile without the town;
Thereon I would borrow a crown,
It is I that so said.
_Wit._ How, lookest thou on him half a-scorn?
I promise you he is a scant gentleman born:
What sayest thou in his face?
_Rem._ For somewhat in his face I look;
Indeed, his mastership stands a-crook:
For false shrews both of you I took,
And children that be past grace.
_Ill-W._ I will swear for him, as for these years twenty,
That he hath been ever as true as I;
Yet sometime he will steal and make a lie. C4,_r._
He is of my alliance.
_Rem._ In good faith, the same think I,
That ye be both like, full unthrifty.
Sirs! how do ye live? show me quickly,
Or I shall put you in durance.
_Wit._ How live we? marry, our meat!
Comest thou hither for to threat?
So lordly sir Wittam doth speak!
From whence doth he come--can ye show?
_Ill-W._ What dost thou ail? Canst thou tell?
Hast thou anything with us to mell?
By the mass! thy hands doth tickle--
Thou shalt bear me a blow.
_Rem._ You false thieves! I know ye well:
I shall let your purpose every deal,
Ill-Will and Shrewd Wit, the devil of hell
Take ye both, for me!
_Wit._ Marry, thou liest! our names be not so:
Call us but Wit and Will--add no more thereto.
If thou dost, thou were as good know
We shall handle you shrewdly.
_Rem._ Sirs, farewell! here I will no longer abide:
For you both, shortly, I will provide
That all your false craft shall be outtried,
And your subtilty known. [_And goeth out._
_Wit._ To go so soon, the whoreson was wise;
Therefore some now I must devise
That each man may Wealth, Health, and Liberty despise;
Or else he will mar all our matter.
Brother wat! let me alone:
When they come you shall see me anon;
Complain of him unto them, each one, C4,_v._
And put him out of favour.
_Ill-W._ Peace! no mo words, for they come yonder.
[WEALTH, HEALTH, _and_ LIBERTY _cometh in._]
_Wealth._ Sirs! I am glad that you be here.
How doth all our household? with them what cheer?
Is everything in order there,
After our intent?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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