MERCATORE. Me tank you, my good lady. But, Master Dissimulation, here is for your fellows, Fraud, Usury, and Simony, and say me give it dem.
[Exeunt LUCRE and MERCATORE.
DISSIMULATION.
Ay marry, sir, these bribes have welcome[169] been.
Good faith, I perceive, Dissimulation, Fraud, Usury, and Simony
shall live
In spite of Love and Conscience, though their hearts it doth grieve.
Mass, masters, he that cannot lie, cog, dissemble and flatter now-a-days,
Is not worthy to live in the world, nor in the court to have praise.
Enter ARTIFEX, an Artificer.
ARTIFEX.
I beseech you, good Master Dissimulation, befriend a poor man
To serve Lady Lucre; and sure, sir, I'll consider it hereafter, if I can.
DISSIMULATION.
What, consider me? dost thou think that I am a bribetaker?
Faith, it lies not in me to further thy matter.
ARTIFEX.
Good Master Dissimulation, help me: I am almost quite undone;
But yet my living hitherto with Conscience I have won,
But my true working, my early rising, and my late going to bed
Is scant able to find myself, wife and children dry bread:
For there be such a sort of strangers in this country,
That work fine to please the eye, though it be deceitfully;
And that which is slight, and seems to the eye well,
Shall sooner than a piece of good work be proffered to sell;
And our Englishmen be grown so foolish and nice,
That they will not give a penny above the ordinary price.
DISSIMULATION.
Faith, I cannot help thee: 'tis my fellow Fraud must pleasure thee.
Here comes my fellow Fraud: speak to him, and I'll do what I can.
Enter FRAUD.
ARTIFEX.
I beseech you be good unto me, right honest gentleman.