A Collection Of Old English Plays, Vol. IV. | Page 4

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.

[SCENE II.]
_Enter Pandino and Armenia sicke on a bed, Pertillo their Sonne, Falleria his Brother, Sostrato his Wife, Alinso their Sonne, and a Scrivener with a Will, &c_.
Pan. Brother and sister, pray you both drawe neere, And heere my will which you have promised Shall be performde with wished providence. This little Orphant I must leave behinde, By your direction to be governed. As for my wife and I, we do awaite The blessed houre when it shall please the Lord, To take us to the iust Ierusalem. Our chiefest care is for that tender boye, Which we should leave discomfortlesse behinde, But that we do assure us of your love And care to guide his weake unhable youth In pathes of knowledge, grace, and godlinesse. As for the riches of this mortall life, We leave enough;