A Select Collection of Old English Plays, vol 2 | Page 2

not receive him, that did them make And
all this world of nought.
YOUTH. Aback, fellows, and give me room, Or I shall make you to
avoid soon! I am goodly of person; I am peerless, wherever I come. My
name is Youth, I tell thee, I flourish as the vine-tree: Who may be
likened unto me, In my youth and jollity? My hair[4] is royal and
bushed thick; My body pliant as a hazel-stick; Mine arms be both big[5]
and strong, My fingers be both fair and long; My chest big as a tun, My
legs be full light for to run, To hop and dance, and make merry. By the
mass, I reck not a cherry, Whatsoever I do! I am the heir of all my
father's land, And it is come into my hand: I care for no more.
CHARITY. Are you so disposed to do, To follow vice, and let virtue
go!
YOUTH. Yea, sir, even so: For now-a-days he is not set by, Without he
be unthrifty.
CHARITY. You had need to ask God mercy; Why did you so praise
your body?
YOUTH. Why, knave, what is that to thee? Wilt thou let[6] me to
praise my body? Why should I not praise it, and it be goodly? I will not
let for thee.
CHARITY. What shall it be, when thou shalt flit Fro thy wealth into
the pit? Therefore of it be not too bold, Lest thou forethink[7] it, when
thou art old: Ye may be likened to a tree, In youth flourishing with
royalty, And in age it is cut down, And to the fire is thrown: So shalt
thou, but thou amend, Be burned in hell without end!
YOUTH. Ye whoreson, trowest thou so? Beware, lest thou thither go!
Hence, caitiff, go thy way, Or with my dagger I shall thee slay! Hence,
knave, out of this place, Or I shall lay thee on the face! Sayest thou that
I shall go to hell, For evermore there to dwell? I had liever thou had
evil fare.[8]
CHARITY. Ah, yet, sir, do by my reed, And ask mercy for thy misdeed,
And thou shalt be an heritor of bliss, Where all joy and mirth is; Where
thou shalt see a glorious sight Of angels singing, with saints bright,
Before the face of God.
YOUTH. What, sirs, above the sky? I had need of a ladder to climb so
high! But what, and the ladder slip? Then I am deceived yet, And if I
fall, I catch a queck; I may fortune to break my neck, And that joint is

ill to set: Nay, nay, not so.
CHARITY. Oh, yet remember, and call to thy mind, The mercy of God
passeth all thing. For it is written by noble clerks, The mercy of God
passeth all works; That witnesseth Holy Scripture, saying thus:
_Miseratio domini super omnia opera ejus_: Therefore doubt not God's
grace; Thereof is plenty in every place.
YOUTH. What, methink ye be clerkish, For ye speak good gibb'rish!
Sir, I pray you, and you have any store, Soil[9] me a question, ere ye
cast any more, Lest when your cunning is all done, My question have
no solution. Sir, and it please you this, Why do men eat mustard with
salt fish? Sir, I pray you soil me this question That I have put to your
discretion.
CHARITY. This question is but a vanity; It longeth not to me Such
questions to assoil.
YOUTH. Sir, by God, that me dear bought, I see your cunning is little
or nought; And I should follow your school, Soon ye would make me a
fool! Therefore crake no longer here, Lest I take you on the ear, And
make your head to ache!
CHARITY. Sir, it falleth not for me to fight, Neither by day, ne by
night; Therefore do by my counsel, I say, Then to heaven thou shalt
have thy way.
YOUTH. No, sir, I think ye will not fight; But to take a man's purse in
the night Ye will not say nay; For such holy caitiffs Were wont to be
thieves, And such would be hanged as high As a man may see with his
eye: In faith, this same is true.
CHARITY. God save every Christian body From such evil destiny,
And send us of his grace In heaven to have a place!
YOUTH. Nay, nay, I warrant thee, He hath no place for thee; Weenest
thou he will have such fools To sit on his gay stools? Nay, I warrant
thee, nay!
HUMILITY. Well, sir, I put me in God's will, Whether he will me save
or spill; And, sir, I pray you do so, And trust in God, whatsoever ye do.
YOUTH. Sir, I pray thee hold thy