PROD.  I grant.

DICER.  Then, if you please, with some sweet roisting harmony
Let us begin the utas[395] of our jollity.

PROD.  Thou hitt’st my hand pat.  Money, what say’st thou?

MON.  I say that I like it:  go to it, I pray you.

PROD.  Shall I begin?

MON.  Yea.

PROD.  Then surely shall it be,
To thee, for thee, and in honour of thee.

The Song.

Sweet Money, the minion that sails with all winds,
Sweet Money, the minstrel, that makes merry minds. 
Flitozolaknops_[396]

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Enter LIBERALITY.

LIB.  The more a man with virtuous dealing doth himself inure,
The less with worldly business he is molested sure;
Which maketh proof that, as turmoils still toss the worldly mind: 
So minds exempt from worldly toil desired quiet find. 
And chiefly, where the life is led in virtuous exercise,
There is no toil, but ease and contentation to the wise. 
But what account, how slight regard, is had of virtue here,
By actions on this worldly stage most plainly doth appear. 
Men see without most just desert of virtue nought is got,
To Fortune therefore fly they still, that giveth all by lot;
And finding Fortune’s gifts so pleasant, sweet, and savoury,
They build thereon, as if they should endure perpetually. 
But this is sure, and that most sure, that Fortune is unsure,
Herself most frail, her gifts as frail, subject to every shower: 
And in the end, who buildeth most upon her surety,
Shall find himself cast headlong down to depth of misery. 
Then having felt the crafty sleights of Fortune’s fickle train,
Is forc’d to seek by virtue’s aid to be relieved again. 
This is the end; run how he list, this man of force must do,
Unless his life be clean cut off, this man must come unto: 
In time, therefore, man might do well to care for his estate,
Lest, letted by extremity, repentance come too late.

SCENE V.

    Enter to LIBERALITY CAPTAIN WELL-DONE.

CAP.  W. Sir, I beseech you, speak a good word for me to the prince,
That by her letters I may be commended to some province,
Where service is to be had, either there to die with fame,
Or else to get me somewhat, whereon to live without shame;
For beg I cannot, and steal I may not, the truth is so;
But need doth make, the proverb say’th, th’old wife to trot for woe. 
Yet whom stark need doth pinch, at length the devil drives to go: 
Therefore, I beseech you, pity his extremity,
That would not make this suit without necessity.

LIB.  Who be you, my friend?

CAP.  W. By birth a gentleman, by profession a soldier,
Who, though I say it, in all our sovereign’s war,
With hazard of my blood and life have gone as far,
As haply some others, whose fortunes have been better: 
But I in service yet could never be a getter,
Ne can I impute it but to mine own destiny: 
For well I know the prince is full of liberality.