SIMPLICITY. What fault? I promise ye, a great fault: what have you, or any man else, to do to ask me if I have any old iron? What, if I have, or what, if I have not; why should you be so saucy to ask?
PLEASURE. Why, fool, 'tis for thy good to give thee money for that that might lie and rust by thee.
SIMPLICITY. No, my lord, no; I may not call you fool: it is to mark the houses where such stuff is that, against rebels rise, there is harness and weapon ready for them in such and such houses; and what then? The rusty weapon doth wound past surgery, and kills the queen's good subjects; and the rest of the old trash will make them guns too: so it is good luck to find old iron, but 'tis naught to keep it, and the trade is crafty. And now, my Lord Policy, I speak to you, 'twere well to put it down.
POLICY.
Wisely said. Which is your second? Is that as perilous?
SIMPLICITY. Yea, and worse. It is, have ye any ends of gold and silver? This is a perilous trade, covetous, and a 'ticement to murder; for, mark ye, if they that ask this should be evil-given, as Gods forbod, they see who hath this gold and silver: may they not come in the night, break in at their houses, and cut their throats for it? I tell ye, gold and silver hath caused as much mischief to be done as that: down with it.
POMP.
They that have it need not show it.
SIMPLICITY. Tush! they need ask no such question: many a man hath delight to show what he hath. The trade is a 'ticing trade; down with it!
POLICY.
Now, your third, sir?
SIMPLICITY. That is the craftiest of all, wherein I am disbus'd, for that goes under the colour of Simplicity: have ye any wood to cleave?
PLEASURE.
A perilous thing: what hurt is there in this, sir?