HAPHAZARD. Why, these are but thoughts, man: why, fie for shame, fie! For Conscience was careless and sailing by seas, Was drowned in a basket and had a disease, Sore moved for pity, when he would grant none, For being hard-hearted was turned to a stone: And sailing by Sandwich he sank for his sin. Then care not for conscience the worth of a pin. And judgment judge[d] Justice to have a reward For judging still justly, but all now is marr’d; For gifts they are given where judgment is none. Thus judgment and justice a wrong way hath gone. Then care not for Conscience the worth of a fable; Justice is no man, nor nought to do able.

APPIUS. And sayest thou so, my ’sured friend? then hap as hap shall it: Let Conscience grope and judgment crave, I will not shrink one whit. I will persever in my thought: I will deflower her youth; I will not sure reverted be, my heart shall have no ruth. Come on, proceed, and wait on me, I will, hap woe or wealth: Hap blunt, hap sharp, hap life, hap death: th[r]ough Haphazard be of health.

A Select Collection of Old English Plays — Part 61

HAPHAZARD. At hand (quoth pick-purse) here ready am I. See well to the cut-purse: be ruled by me. [_Exeunt._

A Select Collection of Old English Plays — Part 61

CONSCIENCE. O clear unspotted gifts of Jove, How haps thou art refused? O Conscience clear, what cruel mind Thy truth hath thus misused? I spotted am by wilful will, By lawless love and lust, By dreadful danger of the life, By faith that is unjust,

A Select Collection of Old English Plays — Part 61

JUSTICE. Ah gift of Jove, Ah Fortune’s face, Ah state of steady life! I Justice am, and prince of peers, The end of laws and strife: A guider of the common weal, A guardian[181] to the poor; And yet hath filthy lust suppress’d My virtues in one hour. Well, well, this is the most to trust, In end we shall aspire To see the end of these our foes With sword and eke with fire.

CONSCIENCE. O help, ye gods, we members require. [_Exeunt._

When gain is no grandsire,[182] And gauds nought set by; Nor puddings nor pie-meat Poor knaves will come nigh, Then hap and Haphazard Shall have a new coat. And so it may happen To cut covetousness’ throat. Yea, then shall Judge Appius Virginia obtain, And geese shall crack mussels Perhaps in the rain: Larks shall be leverets, And skip to and fro; And churls shall be cods-heads, Perhaps and also. But peace, for man’s body! Haphazard be mum! Fie, prattling noddy, Judge Appius is come.