light in you, and be a tender master over you: or if you have any mind to the game, either at bull or bear, I think I could prefer you to Moll Cutpurse.7

Dog. Ha, ha! I should kill all the game, bulls, bears, dogs and all; not a cub to be left.

Cud. You could do, Tom; but you must play fair, you should be staved off else. Or if your

stomach did better like to serve in some nobleman's, knight's, or gentleman's kitchen, if you could brook the wheel, and turn the spit (your labour could not be much) when they have roast meat, that's but once or twice in the week at most; here you might lick your own toes very well: or if you could translate yourself into a lady's arming puppy, there you might lick sweet lips, and do many pretty offices; but to creep under an old witch's coats, and suck like a great puppy!-fie upon't! I have heard beastly things of you, Tom.

Dog. Ha, ha!

The worst thou heard'st of me the better 'tis ;
Shall I serve thee, fool, at the self-same rate?

7 Moll Cutpurse.] A notorious character of those days, whose real name was Mary Frith. She appears to have excelled in various professions, of which far the most honest and praiseworthy was that of picking pockets. By singular good fortune, she escaped the gallows, and died " in a ripe and rotten old age," some time before the Restoration. Moll is the heroine of The Roaring Girl, a lively comedy, by Middleton, who has treated her with kindness.

Cud. No, I'll see thee hang'd, thou shalt be damn'd first! I know thy qualities too well, I'll give no suck to such whelps; therefore, henceforth I defy thee. Out! and avaunt!

Dog. Nor will I serve for such a silly soul. I am for greatness now, corrupted greatness, There I'll shug in, and get a noble countenance; Serve some Briarean footcloth-strider, That has an hundred hands to catch at bribes, But not a finger's nail of charity.

8

Such, like the dragon's tail, shall pull down hun

dreds

To drop and sink with him: I'll stretch myself,
And draw this bulk small as a silver wire,
Enter at the least pore tobacco-fume

Can make a breach for :-hence, silly fool!
I scorn to prey on such an atom soul.

Cud. Come out, come out, you cur! I will beat thee out of the bounds of Edmonton, and tomorrow we go in procession, and after thou shalt never come in again: if thou goest to London, I'll make thee go about by Tyburn, stealing in by Thieving-lane. If thou canst rub thy shoulder against a lawyer's gown, as thou passest by West

8 There I'll get a noble countenance;

Our authors use

Serve some Briarean footcloth-strider.] countenance, as indeed do all the writers of their time, for patronage, protection, responsibility, &c. Footcloths were the ornamental housings or trappings flung over the pads of state-horses. On these the great lawyers then rode to Westminster Hall; and, as our authors intimate, the great courtiers to St. James's. They became common enough in aftertimes. The allusion in the next line is to Revelation, ch. xii. v. 4.

minster-hall, do; if not, to the stairs amongst the ban-dogs, take water, and the devil go with thee!

[Exit, followed by Dog barking.

SCENE II.---London.-The neighbourhood of Tyburn.

Enter JUSTICE, Sir ARTHUR, SOMERTON, WARBECK, CARTER, and Katherine.

Just. Sir Arthur, though the bench hath mildly censured your errors, yet you have indeed been the instrument that wrought all their misfortunes; I would wish you paid down your fine speedily and willingly.

Sir Ar. I shall need no urging to it.

Car. If you should, 'twere a shame to you; for, if I should speak my conscience, you are worthier to be hang'd of the two, all things considered; and now make what you can of it: but I am glad these gentlemen are freed.

War. We knew our innocence.
Som. And therefore fear'd it not.
Kath. But I am glad that I have

you safe.

[A noise within.

Just. How now? what noise is that?

Car. Young Frank is going the wrong way.-Alas, poor youth! now, I begin to pity him.

Enter Old THORNEY, and WINNIFREDE weeping.

Thor. Here let our sorrows wait him; to press

nearer

The place of his sad death, some apprehensions May tempt our grief too much, at height already;

Daughter, be comforted.

Win. Comfort and I

Are too far separated to be join'd
But in eternity; I share too much
Of him that's going thither.

War. Poor woman, 'twas not thy fault; I grieve to see thee weep for him that hath my pity

too.

Win. My fault was lust, my punishment was shame.

Yet I am happy that my soul is free

Both from consent, fore-knowledge, and intent, Of any murther, but of mine own honour; Restored again by a fair satisfaction,

And since not to be wounded.

Thor. Daughter, grieve not

For what necessity forceth;

Rather resolve to conquer it with patience.
Alas, she faints!

Win. My griefs are strong upon me;

My weakness scarce can bear them.—

[A great cry within.]-Away with her! Hang her, witch!

Enter to Execution Mother SAWYER; Officers with halberts, followed by a crowd of country people.

Car. The witch, that instrument of mischief! Did not she witch the devil into my son-in-law, when he kill'd my poor daughter? Do you hear, mother Sawyer?

Saw. What would you have?

Cannot a poor old woman have your leave
To die without vexation?

Car. Did not you bewitch Frank, to kill his
He could never have done't without the

wife?

devil.

Saw. Who doubts it? but is every devil mine? Would I had one now whom I might command To tear you all in pieces! Tom would have

done't,

Before he left me.

Car. Thou didst bewitch Ann Ratcliffe to kill herself.

Saw. Churl, thou liest; I never did her hurt: would you were all as near your ends as I am, that gave evidence against me for it!

Coun. I'll be sworn, master Carter, she bewitch'd Gammer Washbowl's sow to cast her pigs a day before she would have farrowed: yet they were sent up to London, and sold for as good