_Avar._ Madame! I have brought you these men for whom I went.
_Resp._ Policy! I thank you; ye have made speedy speed; Therefore, ye be double welcome, and welcome friends, indeed!
_Avar._ Madame! your grace to serve we all are fully bent.
_Adul._ And, Madame! ye shall find me double diligent.
_Resp._ That is spoken of a good heart: but who be ye?
_Adul._ Forsooth, Madame! my name is Master Honesty.
_Adul._ Yea, forsooth! and please your grace, I am Honesty.
_Avar._ Madame, he is for you: on my word, regard him!
_Resp._ Yes, and with large preferment I will reward him.
_Adul._ I thank your grace; and, I will, for you, take such pain That, ere I deserve one, ye shall give me twain.
_Adul._ That ere ye give me one, I will deserve twain-- By your licence, Madame! to take away this mote.
_Avar._ Nay! Honesty will not see a wem on your coat. Now unto you I commend Reformation.
_Resp._ Of him is no small need now, in this nation.
_Oppr._ Well, now that ye bid me abuses to redress, I doubt not all enormities so to repress, As shall redound to your wealth and honour at length.
_Resp._ Thereto shall authority aid you with his strength.
_Avar._ Yea! for Authority to govern is most fit.
_Insol._ If ye, Dame Respublica! do me so admit, I doubt not to hamper the proudest of them all.
_Resp._ Vanquish Oppression and Adulation! For those three have nigh wrought my desolation.
_Avar._ Hem, sirs! hem! there, keep your gowns close afore, I say! Have ye forgotten now what I told you one day? There is another, too, that would be chased hence.
_Resp._ Ye say truth, and many naughty ones mo than he.
_Resp._ I thank you; and, I trust you for my maintenance, To be administere[d] for your good governance.
_Insol._ Then, without fear or care, ye may yourself repose.
_Oppr._ And let us alone with all such matters as those.
_Resp._ Then, I leave you here, on our affairs to consult.
_Avar._ Well then, sirs! let us make no delay; But, about our market depart, each man his way.
_Adul._ Nay! first let us sing a song to lighten our hearts.
_Avar._ Then are ye like, for me, to sing but of three parts. Can Avarice['s] heart be set on a merry pin, And see no gain, no profit at all coming in?
_Insol._ We shall have enough to drive away all sorrow.