_Avarice._ Now, godigod! everyone, both great and small, From highest to lowest, Godigod to you all! Godigod! what should I say? even or morn, If I mark how the day goeth--God give me sorrow! But, godigod! each one, twenty and twenty score Of that ye most long for--what would ye have more? Ye must pardon my wits, for I tell you, plain, I have a hive of humble bees swarming in my brain; And he that hath the compass to fetch that I must fetch, I may say, in counsel, had need his wits to stretch. But now, what my name is, and what is my purpose-- Taking you all for friends--I fear not to disclose. My very true, unchristian name is Avarice, Which I may not have openly known, in no wise; For, though to most men I am found commodious, Yet, to those that use me, my name is odious. For, who is so foolish that the evil he hath wrought For his own behoof, he would to light should be brought? Or, who had not rather, his ill doings to hide, Than to have the same bruited on every side? Therefore, to work my feat, I will my name disguise; And call my name Policy instead of Covetise. The name of Policy is praised of each one; But, to rake gromwell-seed, Avarice is alone; The name of Policy is of none suspected-- Policy is ne'er of any crime detected. So that, under the name and cloak of Policy, Avarice may work facts, and scape all jealousy. And, now is the time come that--except I be a beast, E'en to make up my mouth, and to feather my nest-- A time that I have waited for, a great long space; And now may I speed my purpose, if I have grace.