The Staple of News Act 5 Scene 6 & Epilogue lyrics

by

Ben Jonson


Peni-boy Ca. Peni-boy sen. Peni-boy jun. Pecunia, Train.

You see by this amazement and distraction,
What your Companions were, a poor, afrighted,
And guilty Race of Men, that dare to stand
No Breath of Truth; but conscious to themselves
Of their no-wit, or Honesty, ran routed
At ever Pannick Terror themselves bred.
Where else, as confident as sounding Brass,
Their tinkling Captain, Cymbal, and the rest,
Dare put on any Visor, to deride
The wretched, or with Buffoon Licence jest
At whatsoe're is serious, if not sacred.

P. sen.
Who's this? my Brother! and restor'd to Life!

[Peni-boy sen. acknowledgeth his elder Brother.

P. Ca.
Yes, and sent hither to restore your Wits,
If your short Madness be not more than Anger,
Conceived for your Loss! which I return you.
See here, your Mortgage, Statute, Band, and Wax,
Without your Broker, come to abide with you,
And vindicate the Prodigal from stealing
Away the Lady. Nay, Pecunia her self
Is come to free him fairly, and discharge
All Ties, but those of Love, unto her Person,
To use her like a Friend, not like a Slave,
Or like an Idol. Superstition
Doth violate the Deity it worships,
No less than Scorn doth. And believe it, Brother,
The Use of things is all, and not the Store:
Surfeit and Fulness have kill'd more than Famine.
The Sparrow, with his little Plumage, flies,
While the proud Peac*ck, overcharg'd with Pens,
Is fain to sweep the Ground with his grown Train,
And load of Feathers.

P. sen.
Wise and honour'd Brother!
None but a Brother, and sent from the Dead,
As you are to me, could have altered me:
I thank my Destiny, that is so gracious.
Are there no Pains, no Penalties decreed
From whence you come, to us that smother Money
In Chests, and strangle her in Bags?

F. Ca.
O, mighty,
Intolerable Fines, and Mulcts impos'd!
(Of which I come to warn you) Forfeitures
Of whole Estates, if they be known, and taken!

P. sen.
I thank you, Brother, for the light you have
given me;
I will prevent 'em all. First free my Dogs,
Lest what I ha' done to them (and against Law)
Be a Præmunire; for by Magna Charta
They could not be committed, as close Prisoners,
My Learned Counsel tells me here, my Cook;
And yet he shew'd me the way first.

Lic.
Who did? I?
I trench the Liberty o' the Subjects?

P. Ca.
Peace,
Picklock, your Guest, that Stentor, hath infected you,
Whom I have safe enough in a wooden Collar.

P. sen.
Next, I restore these Servants to their Lady,
With Freedom, Heart of chear, and Countenance;
It is their Year and Day of Jubilee.

[Her Train thanks him.

Tra.
We thank you, Sir.

P. sen.
And lastly, to my Nephew
I give my House, Goods, Lands, all but my Vices,
And those I go to cleanse; kissing this Lady,
Whom I do give him too, and join their Hands.

P. Ca.
If the Spectators will join theirs, we thank 'em.

P. jun.
And wish they may, as I, enjoy Pecunia.

Pec.
And so Pecunia her self doth wish,
That she may still be Aid unto their Uses,
Not Slave unto their Pleasures, or a Tyrant
Over their fair Desires; but teach them all
The Golden Mean; the Prodigal, how to live;
The sordid, and the covetous, how to die:
That, with sound Mind; this, safe Frugality.


                      The     E P I L O G U E

THus have you seen the Makers double Scope,
To
profit, and delight; wherein our Hope
Is, though the Clout we do not always hit,
It will not be imputed to his Wit:
A
Tree so try'd, and bent, as 'twill not start.
Nor doth he often crack a String of Art,
Though there may other
Accidents as strange
Happen, the
Weather of your Looks may change,
Or some high
Wind of Misconceit arise,
To cause an Alteration in our
Skies:
If so, w' are sorry, that have so miss-spent
Our
Time and Tackle; yet he's confident,
And vows, the next fair Day he'll have us shoot
The same Match o're for him, if you'll come to't.

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