POLICY.
Give me the iron. Pomp, Cousin Skill, help to hold him.
[FRAUD lays hold on him, but DISSIMULATION slip away.
Sirrah, Policy gives you this mark, do you see;
A little x standing in the midst of a great C,
Meaning thereby to let men understand,
That you must not take above bare ten pound in the hundred at any hand:
And that too much too; and so be packing quietly,
And know that London's Pomp is not sustained by Usury,
But by well-ventured merchandise and honest industry.
USURY. I would I had never seen ye, if this be your courtesy. [Exit USURY.
POLICY.
Now, Cousin Skill, alias Filthy Fraud,
No kinsman to Policy, nor friend to the state:
Instead of serving me, Diligence, take him to Newgate.
Ask me not why, sir: but, Diligence, if he do strive,
Raise the street: he's unweaponed, and thou hast a weapon on.—
And now, lords, when ye will, about our affairs let's be gone.
PLEASURE.
Agreed; but what's become of Fair-semblance, my man?
POMP.
A crafty villain, perceiving how we meant to Usury, slipt away.
Enter SIMPLICITY in haste, and give the Lords a paper to read.
SIMPLICITY.
All hail, all rain, all frost, and all snow
Be to you three Lords of London on a row!
Read my supplantation, and my suit ye shall know,
Even for God's sake above, and three ladies' sakes below.
FRAUD.
Master Diligence, do me a favour: you know I am a gentleman.