William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition (369 page)

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Authors: William Shakespeare

Tags: #Drama, #Literary Criticism, #Shakespeare

BOOK: William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition
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Excellent, excellent!
LIFTER
Then, sir, you cannot but for manners’ sake
Walk on with him, for he will walk your way,
Alleging either you have much forgot him,
Or he mistakes you.
SURESBY
But in this time has he my purse or no?
LIFTER
Not yet, sir, fie! ⌈
Aside
⌉ No, nor I have not yours.—

He takes Suresby’s purse.

Enter Lord Mayor,

Justices, and the Recorder; Sheriff
More and the other Sheriff

 
But now we must forbear; my lords return.
SURESBY
A murrain on’t! Lifter, we’ll more anon.
Ay, thou sayst true: there are shrewd knaves indeed.
He sits down
 
But let them gull me, widgeon me, rook me, fop me,
I‘faith, i’faith, they are too short for me.
Knaves and fools meet when purses go.
Wise men look to their purses well enough.
MORE (
aside
)
Lifter, is it done?
LIFTER
(aside)
Done, Master Sheriff, and there it is.

He gives Suresby’s purse to More

 
MORE
(aside)
Then build upon my word, I’ll save thy life.
RECORDER Lifter, stand to the bar. 150
The jury have returned thee guilty; thou must die.
According to the custom, look to it, Master Sheriff.
LORD MAYOR
Then, gentlemen, as you are wont to do,
Because as yet we have no burial place,
What charity your meaning’s to bestow 155
Toward burial of the prisoners now condemned,
Let it be given. There is first for me.
RECORDER
And there’s for me.
ANOTHER
And me.
SURESBY
Body of me,
My purse is gone!
MORE Gone, sir? What, here? How can that be?
LORD MAYOR
Against all reason: sitting on the bench? 160
SURESBY
Lifter, I talked with you; you have not lifted me, ha?
LIFTER
Suspect ye me, sir? O, what a world is this!
MORE
But hear ye, Master Suresby. Are ye sure
Ye had a purse about ye?
SURESBY
Sure, Master Sheriff, as sure as you are there; 165
And in it seven pounds odd money, on my faith.
MORE
Seven pounds odd money? What, were you so mad,
Being a wise man, and a magistrate,
To trust your purse with such a liberal sum?
Seven pounds odd money? Fore God, it is a shame 170
With such a sum to tempt necessity.
I promise ye, a man that goes abroad
With an intent of truth, meeting such a booty,
May be provoked to that he never thought.
What makes so many pilferers and felons 175
But these fond baits that foolish people lay
To tempt the needy, miserable wretch?
Should he be taken now that has your purse,
I’d stand to‘t, you are guilty of his death;
For, questionless, he would be cast by law.
’Twere a good deed to fine ye as much more,
To the relief of the poor prisoners,
To teach ye lock your money up at home.
SURESBY
Well, Master More, you are a merry man.
I find ye, sir, I find ye well enough.
MORE
Nay, ye shall see, sir, trusting thus your money,
And Lifter here in trial for like case,
But that the poor man is a prisoner,
It would be now suspected that he had it.
Thus may ye see what mischief often comes
By the fond carriage of such needless sums.
LORD MAYOR
Believe me, Master Suresby, this is strange,
You being a man so settled in assurance
Will fall in that which you condemned in other.
MORE
Well, Master Suresby, there’s your purse again,
And all your money. Fear nothing of More.
Wisdom still ( ) the door.
[Exeunt]
Sc. 3
Enter the Earls of Shrewsbury and Surrey, Sir Thomas Palmer, and Sir Roger Cholmley
 
Mend this:
SHREWSBURY
My lord of Surrey, and Sir Thomas Palmer,
Might I with patience tempt your grave advice?
I tell ye true, that in these dangerous times
I do not like this frowning vulgar brow.
My searching eye did never entertain
A more distracted countenance of grief
Than I have late observed
In the displeased commons of the city.
SURREY
’Tis strange, that from his princely clemency
So well a tempered mercy and a grace
To all the aliens in this fruitful land,
That this high-crested insolence should spring
From them that breathe from his majestic bounty,
That, fattened with the traffic of our country,
Already leap into his subjects’ face.
PALMER
Yet Sherwin hindered to commence his suit
Against de Barde, by the Ambassador
By supplication made unto the King;
Who, having first enticed away his wife
And got his plate, near worth four hundred pound,
To grieve some wronged citizens that found
This vile disgrace oft cast into their teeth,
Of late sues Sherwin, and arrested him
For money for the boarding of his wife.
SURREY
The more knave Barde, that, using Sherwin’s goods,
Doth ask him interest for the occupation.
I like not that, my lord of Shrewsbury.
He’s ill bestead that lends a well-paced horse
Unto a man that will not find him meat.
CHOLMLEY
My lord of Surrey will be pleasant still.
PALMER
I being then employed by your honours
To stay the broil that fell about the same,
Where by persuasion I enforced the wrongs
And urged the grief of the displeased city,
He answered me, and with a solemn oath,
That if he had the Mayor of London’s wife
He would keep her, in despite of any English man.
SURREY
’Tis good, Sir Thomas, then, for you and me
Your wife is dead, and I a bachelor.
If no man can possess his wife alone,
I am glad, Sir Thomas Palmer, I have none.
CHOLMLEY
If a take my wife, a shall find her meat.
SURREY
And reason good, Sir Robert Cholmley, too:
If these hot Frenchmen needsly will have sport,
They should in kindness yet defray the charge.
’Tis hard when men possess our wives in quiet,
And yet leave us in to discharge their diet.
SHREWSBURY
My lord, our caters shall not use the market
For our provision but some stranger Lombard now
Will take the victuals from him he hath bought.
A carpenter, as I was late informed,
Who having bought a pair of doves in Cheap,
Immediately a Frenchman Lombard took them from him,
And beat the poor man for resisting him;
And when the fellow did complain his wrongs
He was severely punished for his labour.
SURREY
But if the English blood be once but up,
As I perceive their hearts already full,
I fear me much, before their spleens be cooled,
Some of these saucy aliens for their pride 60
Will pay for’t soundly, wheresoe’er it lights.
This tide of rage that with the eddy strives,
I fear me much, will drown too many lives.
CHOLMLEY
Now afore God, your honours, pardon me.
Men of your place and greatness are to blame- 65
I tell ye true, my lords-in that his majesty
Is not informed of this base abuse,
And daily wrongs are offered to his subjects;
For if he were, I know his gracious wisdom
Would soon redress it.
Enter a Messenger
 
SfIREWSBURY
Sirrah, what news?
CHOLMLEY
None good, I fear.
MESSENGER
My lord, ill news; and worse, I fear, will follow
If speedily it be not looked unto.
The city is in an uproar, and the Mayor
Is threatened if he come out of his house.
A number, poor artifices
[CHOLMLEY]
’Twas to be feared what this would come unto.
This follows on the Doctor’s publishing
The bill of wrongs in public at the Spital.
SHREWSBURY

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