MORE. And thou beest not saddled too, it makes no matter, for then Wit’s inclination may gallop so fast, that he will outstrip Wisdom, and fall to folly.
INCLINATION. Indeed, so he does to Lady Vanity; but we have no folly in our play.
MORE. Then there’s no wit in ’t, I’ll be sworn: folly waits on wit, as the shadow on the body, and where wit is ripest there folly still is readiest. But begin, I prithee: we’ll rather allow a beardless Wit than Wit all beard to have no brain.
INCLINATION. Nay, he has his apparel on too, my lord, and therefore he is the readier to enter.
MORE.
Then, good Inclination, begin at a venter.—
[Exit Inclination.]
My Lord Mayor,
Wit lacks a beard, or else they would begin:
I’d lend him mine, but that it is too thin.
Silence, they come.
[The trumpet sounds; enter the Prologue.]
PROLOGUE.
Now, for as much as in these latter days,
Throughout the whole world in every land,
Vice doth increase, and virtue decays,
Iniquity having the upper hand;
We therefore intend, good gentle audience,
A pretty short interlude to play at this present,
Desiring your leave and quiet silence,
To show the same, as is meet and expedient,
It is called The Marriage of Wit and Wisdom,
A matter right pithy and pleasing to hear,
Whereof in brief we will show the whole sum;
But I must be gone, for Wit doth appear.
[Exit. Enter Wit ruffling, and Inclination the Vice.]