[ACT THE FIRST.]
[SCENE I.]
Enter Merry.
I live in meane and discontented state,
But wherefore should I think of discontent?
I am belov'd, I have a pretty house,
A loving sister, and a carefull man,
That doe not thinke their dayes worke well at end,
Except it bring me in some benefit:
And well frequented is my little house
With many guestes and honest passengers,
Enter Beech and a friend.
Which may in time advance my humble state
To greater wealth and reputation.
And here comes friends to drinke some beare or ale; [Sit in his Shop.
They are my neighbours, they shall have the best.
Ne. Come neighbour Beech, lets have our mornings draught
And wele go drinke it at yong Merries house:
They say he hath the best in all this towne,
Besides they say he is an honest man,
And keepes good rule and orders in his house.
Beech. He's so indeede; his conversation
Is full of honest harmlesse curtesie:
I dare presume, if that he be within,
Hele serve us well, and keepe us company.
See where he is, go in, ile follow you; [Strive curtesies.
Nay straine no curtesie, you shall goe before.
Mer. Your welcome, neighbour, you are welcome, sir; I praie sit downe, your verie welcome both.
Beech. We thanke you for it, and we thinke no lesse.
Now fill two cans of your ould strongest beare;
That make so manie loose their little wits,
And make indentures as they go along.
Mer. Hoe, sister Rachell!
Rach. I come presently,
Enter Rachell.
Mer. Goe draw these gentlemen two cans of beare.
Your negligence that cannot tend the shop,
Will make our customers forsake the house.
Wheres Harry Williams that he staies not here?
Rach. My selfe was busie dressing up the house: As for your man he is not verie well, But sitteth sleeping by the kitchen fier.
Mer. If you are busie, get you up againe; [Exit. Ile draw my neighbours then their drinke my selfe, Ile warrant you as good as any mans,— And yet no better; many have the like. [Exit for Beare.
Neigh. This showes him for a plain and honest man,
That will not flatter with too many wordes;
Some shriltong'd fellowes would have cogd and faind,
Saying, ile draw the best in Christendome.
Beech. Hees none of those, but beares an honest minde, And shames to utter what he cannot prove.
Enter Merry.
But here he comes: is that the best you have?
Mer. It is the best upon mine honest worde.
Beech. Then drinke to us.
Mer. I drinke unto you both.
Nei. Beech. We pledge you both, and thanke you hartelie.
Beech. Heres to you sir.
Neigh. I thank you.
[Maister Beech drinkes; drinke Neighbour.
Neigh. Tis good indeed and I had rather drinke
Such beare as this as any Gascoine Wine:
But tis our English manner to affect
Strange things, and price them at a greater rate,
Then home-bred things of better consequence.
Mer. Tis true indeede; if all were of your mind, My poore estate would sooner be advanc'd, And our French Marchants seeke some other trade.
Beech. Your poore estate! nay, neighbour, say not so, For God be thanked you are well to live.
Mer. Not so good neighbour, but a poore young man,
That would live better if I had the meanes:
But as I am I can content myselfe,
Till God amend my poore abilitie.
Neigh. In time no doubt; why, man, you are but young, And God, assure your selfe, hath wealth in store, If you awaight his will with patience.
Beech. Thankes be to God I live contentedlie,
And yet I cannot boast of mightie wealth:
But yet Gods blessings have beene infinit,
And farre beyond my expectations.
My shop is stor'd, I am not much in debt;
And here I speake it where I may be bold,
I have a score of poundes to helpe my neede,
If God should stretch his hand to visit me
With sicknesse or such like adversity.
Neigh. Enough for this; now, neighbour, whats to pay?
Mer. Two pence, good sir.
Beech. Nay, pray, sir, forbeare; Ile pay this reckoning, for it is but small.
Neigh. I will not strive since yee will have it so.
Beech. Neighbour, farewell.
[Exit Beech and Neigh.
Mer. Farewell unto you both.
His shop is stor'd, he is not much in debt,
He hath a score of poundes to helpe his neede:
I and a score too if the trueth were known.
I would I had a shop so stor'd with wares,
And fortie poundes to buy a bargain with,
When as occasion should be offered me;
Ide live as merrie as the wealthiest man
That hath his being within London walles.
I cannot buy my beare, my bread, my meate,
My fagots, coales, and such like necessaries,
At the best hand, because I want the coine,
That manie misers cofer up in bagges,
Having enough to serve their turnes besides.
Ah for a tricke to make this Beeches trash
Forsake his cofer and to rest in mine!
I, marrie, sir, how may that tricke be done?
Marrie, with ease and great facilitie.
I will invent some new-found stratagem,
To bring his coyne to my possession.
What though his death relieve my povertie?
Gaine waites on courage, losse on cowardice.
[Exit.