Are come to tender ye our willing service,
So please you to command us.
MORE
What, for a play, you mean?
Whom do ye serve?
PLAYER
My Lord Cardinal’s grace.
MORE
My Lord Cardinal’s players? Now trust me, welcome.
You happen hither in a lucky time
To pleasure me and benefit yourselves.
The Mayor of London and some aldermen,
His lady, and their wives are my kind guests
This night at supper. Now, to have a play
Before the banquet will be excellent.
How think you, son Roper?
ROPER
’Twill do well, my lord,
And be right pleasing pastime to your guests.
MORE
I prithee tell me, what plays have ye?
PLAYER
Diverse, my lord: The Cradle of Security,
Hit Nail o’th’ Head, Impatient Poverty,
The Play of Four Ps, Dives and Lazarus,
Lusty Juventus, and The Marriage of Wit and Wisdom.
MORE
The Marriage of Wit and Wisdom? That, my lads,
I’ll none but that. The theme is very good,
And may maintain a liberal argument.
To marry wit to wisdom asks some cunning.
Many have wit that may come short of wisdom.
We’ll see how Master Poet plays his part,
And whether wit or wisdom grace his art.
Go, make him drink, and all his fellows too.
How many are ye?
PLAYER Four men and a boy, sir.
MORE But one boy? Then I see There’s but few women in the play.
PLAYER
Three, my lord: Dame Science, Lady Vanity,
And Wisdom she herself.
MORE
And one boy play them all? By‘r Lady, he’s loaden.
Well, my good fellow, get ye straight together
And make ye ready with what haste ye may.
⌈To Servingmen⌉ Provide their supper’gainst the play be
done,
Else shall we stay our guests here overlong.
⌈To Player⌉ Make haste, I pray ye.
PLAYER
We will, my lord.
Exeunt Servingmen and Player
MORE
Where are the waits? [To Roper] Go, bid them play,
To spend the time a while.
Enter Lady More
How now, madam?
LADY MORE
My lord, they’re coming hither.
MORE
They’re welcome. Wife, I’ll tell ye one thing.
Our sport is somewhat mended: we shall have
A play tonight, The Marriage of Wit and Wisdom,
And acted by my good Lord Cardinal’s players.
How like ye that, wife?
LADY MORE
My Lord, I like it well.
See, they are coming.
Waits play hautbois
The waits plays. Enters Lord Mayor, so many Aldermen
as may, the Lady Mayoress, in scarlet, with other
ladies and Sir Thomas More’s daughters, [one of them
Roper’s wife]; Servants carrying lighted torches by them
MORE
Once again, welcome, welcome, my good Lord Mayor,
And brethren all—for once I was your brother,
And so am still in heart. It is not state
That can our love from London separate.
〈〉
〈 〉 naught but pride;
But they that cast an eye still whence they came
Know how they rose, and how to use the same.
LORD MAYOR
My lord, you set a gloss on London’s fame,
And make it happy ever by your name.
Needs must we say when we remember More,
’Twas he that drove rebellion from our door
With grave discretions, mild and gentle breath,
Shielding a many subjects’ lives from death.
O, how our city is by you renowned,
And with your virtues our endeavours crowned.
MORE
No more, my good Lord Mayor; but thanks to all
That on so short a summons you would come
To visit him that holds your kindness dear.
[To Lady More] Madam, you are not merry with my Lady
Mayoress
And these fair ladies. Pray ye, seat them all.
[To Lord Mayor] And here, my lord, let me appoint your
place;
The rest to seat themselves. Nay, I’ll weary ye;
You will not long in haste to visit me.
LADY MORE
Good madam, sit. In sooth, you shall sit here.
LADY MAYORESS
Good madam, pardon me, it may not be.
LADY MORE
In troth, I’ll have it so. I’ll sit here by ye.
Good ladies, sit.—More stools here, ho!
LADY MAYORESS
It is your favour, madam, makes me thus
Presume above my merit.
LADY MORE When we come to you,
Then shall you rule us as we rule you here.
[They sit]
Now must I tell ye, madam, we have a play
To welcome ye withal. How good soe’er
That know not I; my lord will have it so.
MORE
Wife, hope the best; I am sure they’ll do their best.
They that would better comes not at their feast.
My good Lord Cardinal’s players, I thank them for it,
Play us a play, to lengthen out your welcome,
My good Lord Mayor and all my other friends.
They say it is The Marriage of Wit and Wisdom—
A theme of some import, howe’er it prove.
But if art fail, we’ll inch it out with love.
What, are they ready?
SERVANT
My lord, one of the players craves to speak with you.
MORE With me? Where is he?
Enter [the Player of] Inclination the Vice, ready, [with a bridle in his hand]
PLAYER of INCLINATION Here, my lord.
MORE How now, what’s the matter?
PLAYER of INCLINATION We would desire your honour but to stay a little. One of my fellows is but run to Ogle’s for a long beard for young Wit, and he’ll be here presently.