Ben Jonson - The Staple of News Act 5 Scene 2 lyrics

Peni-boy Can. Peni-boy jun. Picklock, Tho. Barber. How now? conferring wi' your Learned Counsel Upo' the Cheat? Are you o' the Plot to cozen me? P. jun. What Plot? P. sen. Your Counsel knows there, Mr. Picklock. Will you restore the Trust yet? Pic. Sir, take Patience, And Memory unto you, and bethink you, What Trust? where dos't appear? I have your Deed: Doth your Deed specifie any Trust? Is't not A perfect Act, and absolute in Law? Seal'd and deliver'd before Witnesses? The Day and Date emergent. P. Ca. But what Conference, What Oaths and Vows preceded? Pic. I will tell you, Sir, Since I am urg'd of those, as I remember, You told me you had got a grown Estate, By griping Means, sinisterly. (P. Ca. How!) Pic. And were Ev'n weary of it; if the Parties lived, From whom you had wrested it — (P. Ca. Ha!) Pic. You could be glad To part with all, for satisfaction: But since they had yielded to Humanity, And that just Heaven had sent you for a Punishment (You did acknowledge it) this riotous Heir, That would bring all to Beggery in the end, And daily sow'd Consumption where he went —— P. Ca. You'ld cozen both then? your Confederate too? Pic. After a long, mature deliberation, You could not think where better how to place it —— P. Ca. Than on you, Rascal? Pic. What you please i' your Pa**ion; But with your Reason, you will come about, And think a faithful and a frugal Friend To be preferr'd. P. Ca. Before a Son? Pic. A Prodigal, A Tub without a Bottom, as you term'd him: For which, I might return you a Vow or two, And seal it with an Oath of Thankfulness, I not repent it, neither have I cause, yet —— P. Ca. Forehead of Steel, and Mouth of Bra**! hath Impudence Polish'd so gross a Lie, and dar'st thou vent it? Engine, compos'd of all mixt Metals! Hence, I will not change a Syllab with thee more, Till I may meet thee at a Bar in Court, Before thy Judges. Pic. Thither it must come. Before I part with it to you, or you, Sir. P. Ca. I will not hear thee. [His Son entreats him. P. jun. Sir, your Ear to me tho. Not that I see through his perplexed Plots, And hidden Ends; nor that my Parts depend Upon the unwinding this so knotted Skean, Do I beseech your Patience. Unto me He hath confest the Trust. P. Ca. How? I confess it? P. jun. I, thou, false Man. P. sen. Stand up to him, and confront him. Pic. Where? when? to whom? P. jun. To me, even now, and here: Canst thou deny it? Pic. Can I eat or drink? Sleep, wake, or dream? arise, sit, go, or stand? Do any thing that's natural? P. jun. Yes, lie, It seems thou canst, and perjure; that is natural. Pic. O me! what Times are these, of frontless carriage! An Egg of the same Nest! the Father's Bird! It runs in a Blood, I see! P. jun. I'll stop your Mouth. Pic. With what? P. jun. With Truth. Pic. With Noise; I must have Witness. Where is your Witness? you can produce Witness. P. jun. As if my Testimony were not twenty, Balanc'd with thine? Pic. So say all Prodigals, Sick of Self-love; but that's not Law, young Scatter-good: I live by Law. P. jun. Why, if thou hast a Conscience, That is a thousand Witnesses. Pic. No Court Grants out a Writ of Summons for the Conscience, That I know, nor Subpœna, nor Attachment. I must have Witness, and of your producing, Ere this can come to hearing, and it must Be heard on Oath and Witness. [He produceth Thom. P. jun. Come forth, Thom, Speak what thou heard'st, the truth, and the whole truth, And nothing but the truth. What said this Varlet? Pic. A Rat behind the Hangings! Tho. Sir, he said, It was a Trust! an Act, the which your Father Had Will to alter; but his tender Breast Would not permit to see the Heir defrauded, And, like an Alien, thrust out of the Blood. The Laws forbid that he should give consent To such a Civil Slaughter of a Son — P. jun. And talk'd of a Gratuity to be given, And Aid unto the Charges of the Suit; Which he was to maintain in his own Name, But for my Use, he said. P. Ca. It is enough. Tho. And he would milk Pecunia, and draw down Her Cream, before you got the Trust again. P. Ca. Your Ears are in my Pocket, Knave, go shake 'em The little while you have them. Pic. You do trust To your great Purse. P. Ca. I ha' you in a Purse-net, Good Master Picklock, wi' your worming Brain, And wrigling Ingine-head of Maintenance, Which I shall see you hole with, very shortly. A fine round Head, when those two Lugs are off, To trundle through a Pillory. You are sure You heard him speak this? P. jun. I, and more. Tho. Much more! Pic. I'll prove yours Maintenance, and Combination, And sue you all. P. Ca. Do, do, my gowned Vulture, Crop in Reversion: I shall see you coited Over the Bar, as Barge-men do their Billets. Pic. This 'tis, when Men repent of their good Deeds, And would ha 'em in again — They are almost mad! But I forgive their Lucida Intervalla. O, Lickfinger! come hither. Where's my Writing? [Picklock spies Lickfinger, and asks him aside for the Writing.