One that loves your Musick well.
_To._ He may have more on't,
Handle a bell, as you were haling timber;
Gross, gross, and base, absurd.
_Ring._ I'll mend it next peal.
_Boy._ To intreat a knowledge of you, whether it be
By the Ear you ring thus cunningly, or by the Eye;
For to be plain, he has laid ten pounds upon't.
_Wild._ But which way has he laid?
_Boy._ That your Ear guides you,
And not your Eye.
_To._ Has won, has won, the Ear's our only instrument:
_Boy._ But how shall we be sure on't.
_To._ Put all the lights out, to what end serve our eyes then?
_Wild._ A plain Case.
_Boy._ You say true, 'tis a fine cunning thing to ring by th' Ear sure:
And can you ring i' th' dark so?
_Wild._ All night long, boy.
_Boy._ 'Tis wonderful, let this be certain Gentlemen,
And half his wager he allows among ye;
Is't possible you should ring so?
_To._ Possible, thou art a child, I'll ring when I am dead drunk
Out with the lights, no twinkling of a candle,
I know my rope too, as I know my nose,
And can bang it soundly i'th' dark, I warrant you.
_Wi._ Come, let's confirm him straight, and win the wager. [_Ex._
_Boy._ Let me hear to strengthen me;
And when y'ave rung, I'll bring the money to you.
_Lur._ So, so, follow 'em;
They shall have a cool reward, one hath gold of mine,
Good store in's pocket, [_Ring._
But this will be reveng'd in a short warning.
They are at it lustily; hey, how wantonly
They ring away their cloaths, how it delights me.
_Boy._ Here, here, Sir.
_Enter Boy with cloaths._
_Lur._ Hast _Wildbrain's_?
_Boy._ His whole case, Sir; I felt it out, and by the guards
This should be the Coachmans, another suit too.
_Lur._ Away boy, quickly now to the Usurer,
His hour to wake approaches.
_Boy._ That once finished,
You'll give me leave to play, Sir: here they come. [_Ex._
_Enter_ Wildbrain, Toby, _and Ringers_.
_Wild._ I am monstrous weary.
_To._ Fie, how I sweat! Reach me my cloak to cover me,
I run to oyl like a Porpise; 'twas a brave peal.
_Sex._ Let me light [my] candle first, then I'll wait on you.
_Wild._ A very brave peal.
_To._ Carman, you came in close now.
_Wild._ Sure 'tis past midnight.
_Ring._ No stirring in the streets I hear.
_To._ Walk further, was that a pillar? 'tis harder than my nose,
Where's the boy promis'd us five pounds?
_Wild._ Room, I sweat still; come, come, my cloak,
I shall take cold.
_Enter Sexton._
_Sex._ Where lies it?
_Wild._ Here, here, and all our cloaths.
_Sex._ Where, where?
_Ring._ I'th' corner.
_To._ Is thy candle blind too, give me the bottle,
I can drink like a Fish now, like an Elephant.
_Sex._ Here are the corners, but here are no cloaths;
Yes, here is a cuff.
_Wild._ A cuff? give me the candle,
Cuffes wonot cover me--I smell the knavery.
_Tob._ Is't come to a cuff? my whole suit turned to a button?
_Wild._ Now am I as cold again as though 'twere Christmas;
Cold with my fear, I'll never ring by the ear more.
_To._ My new cloaths vanish'd?
_Wild._ All my cloaths _Toby_.
_Ring._ Here's none.
_Tob._ Not one of my dragons wings left to adorn me,
Have I muted all my feathers?
_Wild._ Cheated by the ear; a plot to put out the candle;
I could be mad; my chain, my rings, the gold, the gold.
_Tob._ The cold, the cold I cry, and I cry truly,
Not one sleeve, nor a cape of a cloak to warm me.
_Wild._ What miserable fools were we!
_Tob._ We had e'en best, gentlemen,
Every man chuse his rope again, and fasten it,
And take a short turn to a better fortune,
To be bawds to our miseries, and put our own lights out!
_Wild._ Prethee Sexton lets have a fire at thy house.
A good fire, we'll pay thee some way for't, I am stone cold.
_Sex._ Alas I pity you, come quickly Gentlemen.
_Wild._ Sure I ha been in a dream, I had no Mistriss,
Nor gold, nor cloaths, but am a ringing rascal.
_Tob._ Fellows in affliction, let's take hands all,
Now are we fit for tumblers.
_Enter_ Lurcher _and others_, bringing in Algripe.
_Lur._ So, so, presently his sleep will leave him.
And wonder seize upon him,
Bid 'em within be ready.
_Ju._ What sound's this?
What horrid dinne? what dismal place is this?
I never saw before, and now behold it;
But by the half light of a Lamp, that burns here:
My spirits shake, tremble through my body;
Help, help,
_Enter two Furies, with black Tapers._
Mercy protect me, my soul quakes,
What dreadful apparitions! how I shudder!
_1. 2. Fu. Algripe._
_Ju._ What are you?
_1._ We are hellhounds, hellhounds, that have commission
From the Prince of darkness,
To fetch thy black soul to him.
_Ju._ Am I not alive still?
_1._ Thou art, but we have brought thee instruments
Will quickly rid thy miserable life, Stabb.
_2._ Poyson.
_1._ Hang thy self, this choice is offer'd.
_2._ Thou canst not hope for heaven; thy base soul is
Lost to all hope of mercy.
[_1._] Quickly, quickly,
The torments cool.
[_2._] And all [the Fiends] expect thee.
Come with us to that pit of endless horror,
Or we will force thee.
_Ju._ Oh, oh, oh.
_1._ Groans are too late, sooner the ravisher,
Whose soul is hurl'd into eternal frost,
Stung with the force of twenty thousand winters,
To punish the distempers of his blood,
Shall hope to get from thence, than thou avoid
The certainty of meeting hell where he is.
Shall murderers be there for ever dying,
Their souls shot through with Adders, torn on Engines,
Dying as many deaths for killing one,
Could any imagination number them,
As there be moments in eternity:
And shall that Justice spare thee, that hast slain,
Murdered by thy extortion so many?
_Ju._ Oh, oh.
_2._ Do execution quickly, or we'll carry thee alive to hell.
_Ju._ Gently, gentle devils, do not force me
To kill my self, nor do not you do't for me;
Oh let me live, I'll make amends for all.
_1._ Tell us of thy repentance? perjur'd villain,
Pinch off his flesh, he must be whipt, salted and whipt.
_Ju._ Oh misery of miseries!
_Recorders 1. 2._ Tear his accursed limbs, to hell with him, ha!
A mischief on that innocent face, away. [_Creeps in._
_Enter Boy like an Angel._
_Boy._ Malicious furies hence, choak not the seeds
Of holy penitence.
_Ju._ This must be an Angel,
How at his presence the fiends crawl away!
Here is some light of mercy.
_Boy._ Be thou wise,
And entertain it, wretched, wretched man;
What poor defence hath all thy wealth been to thee?
What says thy conscience now?
_Ju._ Be my good Angel, here I promise thee,
To become honest, and renounce all villany;
Enjoyn me any pennance, I'll build Churches;
A whole City of Hospitals.
_Boy._ Take heed,
There is no dallying, nor are these impos'd.
_Ju._ Name any thing within my power, sweet Angel;
And if I do not faithfully perform it,
Then whip me every day, burn me each minute,
Whole years together let me freeze to Isicles.
_Boy._ I'th' number of thy foul oppressions;
Thou hast undone a faithful Gentleman,
By taking forfeit of his Land.
_Ju._ Young _Lurcher_,
I do confess.
_Boy._ He lives most miserable,
And in despair may hang or drown himself;
Prevent his ruine, or his blood will be
More sin in thy account: hast thou forgotten
He had a sister?
_Ju._ I do well remember it.
_Boy._ Couldst thou for Mammon break thy solemn vow,
Made once to that unhappy maid, that weeps
A thousand tears a day for thy unkindness,
Was not thy faith contracted, and thy heart?
And couldst thou marry another?
_Ju._ But she is dead,
And I will make true satisfaction.
_Boy._ What do I instance these that hast been false
To all the world.
_Ju._ I know it, and will henceforth
Practice repentance, do not frown sweet Angel;
I will restore all Mortgages, forswear
Abominable Usury, live chaste;
For I have been wanton in my shroud, my age;
And if that poor innocent maid, I so abus'd,
Be living, I will marry her, and spend
My days to come religiously.
_Boy._ I was commanded but a Messenger
To tell thee this, and rescue thee from those,
Whose malice would have dragg'd thee quick to hell,
If thou abuse this mercy and repent not,
Double damnation will expect thee for it;
But if thy life be virtuous hereafter,
A blessedness shall reward thy good example,
Thy fright hath much distracted thy weak sences,
Drink of this viol, and renew thy spirits
I ha done my office, think on't and be happy.
_Lur._ So, so, he gapes already, now he's fast;
Thou hast acted rarely, but this is not all;
First, help to convey him out o' th' vault.
_Boy._ You will dispense with me now, as you promis'd, Sir.
_Lur._ We will make shift without thee, th'ast done well,
By our device this bondage may scape hell. [_Exit._
_Enter Lady, Nurse, Maria._
_La._ Didst think _Maria_, this poor outside, and
Dissembling of thy voice could hide thee from
A mothers searching eye, though too much fear,
Lest thou wert not the same, might blind a Lover
That thought thee dead too; oh my dear _Maria_,
I hardly kept my joyes in from betraying thee:
Welcome again to life, we shall find out
The mystery of thy absence; conceal
Thy person still, for _Algripe_ must not know thee:
And exercise this pretty Dialect;
If there be any course in Law to free thee,
Thou shalt not be so miserable; be silent
Good Nurse.
_Nur._ You [shall] not need to fear me, Madam,
I do not love the usuring Jew so well;
Beside, 'twas my trick to disguise her so.
_La._ Be not dejected _Mall_.
_Ma._ Your care may comfort me;
But I despair of happiness:
_Hartlove_, I dare not see him.
_Nur._ We'll withdraw.
_L[a]._ I shall but grieve to see his passions too,
Since there's no possibility to relieve him.
_Enter_ Hartlove.
_Ha._ The world's a Labyrinth, where unguided men
Walk up and down to find their weariness;
No sooner have we measured with much toil
One crooked path with hope to gain our freedom,
But it betrays us to a new affliction;
What a strange mockery will man become
Shortly to all the creatures?
Oh _Mariah_!
If thou be'st dead, why does thy shadow fright me?
Sure 'tis because I live; were I but certain
To meet thee in one grave, and that our dust
Might have the priviledge to mix in silence,
How quickly should my soul shake off this burthen!
_Enter Boy._
[_Boy._] Thus far my wishes have success, I'll lose
No time: Sir, are not you call'd Mr. _Hartlove_?
Pardon my rudeness.
_Ha._ What does that concern
Thee Boy, 'tis a name cannot advantage thee;
And I am weary on't.
_Boy._ Had you conceal'd,
Or I forgot it, Sir, so large were my
Directions, that you could not speak this language,
But I should know you by your sorrow.
_Ha._ Thou
Wert well inform'd, it seems; well, what's your business?
_Boy._ I come to bring you comfort.
_Ha._ Is _Maria_
Alive agen? that's somewhat, and yet not
Enough to make my expectation rise, to
Past half a blessing; since we cannot meet
To make it up a full one; th'art mistaken.
_Boy._ When you have heard me, you'll think otherwise:
In vain I should report _Maria_ living:
The comfort that I bring you, must depend
Upon her death.
_Ha._ Th'art a dissembling boy,
Some one has sent thee to mock me; though my anger
Stoop not to punish thy green years unripe
For malice; did I know what person sent thee
To tempt my sorrow thus, I should reveng it.
_Boy._ Indeed I have no thought so uncharitable,
Nor am I sent to grieve you, let me suffer
More punishment than ever boy deserv'd,
If you do find me false; I serve a Mistriss
Would rather dye than play with your misfortunes;
Then good Sir hear me out.
_Ha._ Who is your Mistriss?
_Boy._ Before I name her, give me some encouragement,
That you receive her message: she is one
That is full acquainted with your misery,
And can bring such a portion of her sorrow
In every circumstance so like your own,
You'll love and pity her, and wish your griefs
Might marry one anothers.
_Ha._ Thou art wild.
Canst thou bring comfort from so sad a creature?
Her miserable story can at best,
But swell my Volume, large enough already.
_Boy._ She was late belov'd, as you were, promis'd faith
And marriage; and was worthy of a better
Than he, that stole _Maria_'s heart.
_Ha._ How's that?
_Boy._ Just as _Maria_ dealt with your affection,
Did he that married her deal with my Mistriss,
When careless both of Honor and Religion;
They cruelly gave away their hearts to strangers.
_Ha._ Part of this truth I know, but prethee boy
Proceed to that thou cam'st for; thou didst Promise
Something, thy language cannot hitherto
Encourage me to hope for.
_Boy._ That I come to:
My Mistriss thus unkindly dealt withal,
You may imagine, wanted no affliction;
And had e'r this, wept her self dry as Marble,
Had not your fortune come to her relief,
And twinn to her own sorrow brought her comfort.
_Ha._ Could the condition of my fate so equal,
Lessen her sufferings?
_Boy._ I know not how
Companions in grief sometimes diminish
And make the pressure easie by degrees:
She threw her troubles off, remembring yours,
And from her pity of your wrongs, there grew
Affection to your person thus increas'd,
And with it, confidence, that those whom Nature
Had made so even in their weight of sorrow,
Could not but love as equally one another,
Were things but well prepar'd, this gave her boldness
To employ me thus far.
_Ha._ A strange message, boy.
_Boy._ If you incline to meet my Mistriss love,
It may beget your comforts; besides that,
'Tis some revenge, that you above their scorn
And pride can laugh at them, whose perjury
Hath made you happy, and undone themselves.
_Ha._ Have you done boy?
_Boy._ Only this little more;
When you but see, and know my Mistriss well,
You will forgive my tediousness, she's fair,
Fair as _Maria_ was.
_Ha._ I'll hear no more,
Go foolish boy, a[n]d tell thy fonder Mistriss
She has no second Faith to give away;
And mine was given to _Maria_, though her death
Allow me freedom, see the Picture of her.
_Enter_ Maria, Nurse.
I would give ten thousand Empires for the substance;
Yet for _Maria's_ sake, whose divine Figure
That rude frame carries, I will love this counterfeit
Above all the world, and had thy Mistriss [all]
The grace and blossom of her sex; now she
Is gone, that was [a walking] Spring of beauty,
I would not look upon her.
_Boy._ Sir, your pardon,
I have but done a message, as becomes
A servant, nor did she on whose commands
I gladly waited, bid me urge her love
To your disquiet, she would chide my diligence
If I should make you angry.
_Ha._ Pretty boy.
_Boy._ Indeed I fear I have offended you:
Pray if I have, enjoyn me any pennance for it:
I have perform'd one duty, and could as willingly
To purge my fault, and shew I suffer with you,
Plead your cause to another.
_Ha._ And I'll take thee
At thy word boy, thou hast a moving language,
That pretty innocent, Copy of _Maria_
Is all I love, I know not how to speak,
Winn her to think well of me, and I will
Reward thee to thy wishes.
_Boy._ I undertake
Nothing for gain, but since you have resolv'd,
To love no other, I'll be faithful to you,
And my prophetick thoughts bid me already
Say I shall prosper.
_Ha._ Thou wert sent to bless me.
_Boy._ Pray give us opportunity.
_Ha._ Be happy. [_Exit._
_Nur._ He's gone.
_Boy._ With your fair leave Mistriss.
_Ma._ Have you [pusinesse] with her pray you
_Boy._ I have a message from a Gentleman,
Please you vouchsafe your ear more private.
_Nur._ You shall have my absence Neece. [_Exit._
_Ma._ Was the sentleman afear'd to declare his matters openly,
here was no bodies was not very honest, if her like not her
errands the petter, was wist to keep her preaths to cool her
porridges, can tell her, that now for aule her private hearings
and tawgings.
_Boy._ You may, if please you, find another language.
And with less pains be understood.
_Ma._ What is her meaning?
_Boy._ Come, pray speak your own English.
_Ma._ Have boyes lost her itts and memories? [plesse] us aule.
_Boy._ I must be plain then, come, I know you are
_Maria_, this thin vail cannot obscure you:
I'll tell the world you live, I have not lost ye,
Since first with grief and shame to be surpriz'd,
A violent trance took away shew of life;
I could discover by what accident
You were convey'd away at midnight, in
Your coffin, could declare the place, and minute,
When you reviv'd, [and] what you have done since as perfectly--
_Ma._ Alas, I am betraid to new misfortunes.
_Boy._ You are not, for my knowledge, I'll be dumb
For ever, rather than be such a traitor;
Indeed I pity you, and bring no thoughts,
But full of peace, call home your modest blood,
Pale hath too long usurp'd upon your face;
Think upon love agen, and the possession
Of full blown joyes, now ready to salute you.
_Ma._ These words undo me more than my own griefs.
_Boy._ I see how fear would play the tyrant with you,
But I'll remove suspition; have you in
Your heart, an entertainment for his love
To whom your Virgin faith made the first promise?
_Ma._ If thou mean'st _Hartlove_, thou dost wound me still,
I have no life without his memory,
Nor with it any hope to keep it long:
Thou seest I walk in darkness like a thief,
That fears to see the world in his own shape,
My very shadow frights me, 'tis a death
To live thus, and not look day in the face,
Away, I know thee not.
_Boy._ You shall hereafter know, and thank me Lady,
I'll bring you a discharge at my next visit,
Of all your fears, be content, fair _Maria_,
'Tis worth your wonder.
_Ma._ Impossible.
_Boy._ Be wise and silent,
Dress your self, you shall be what you wish.
_Ma._ Do this, and be
My better Angel.
_Boy._ All your care's on me. [_Exeunt._
_Actus Quintus. Scæna Prima._
_Enter_ Lurch, _and Boy_.
_Lur._ I must applaud thy diligence.
_Boy._ It had been nothing
To have left him in the Porch; I call'd his servants,
With wonders they acknowledg'd him, I pretended
It was some spice sure of the falling sickness,
And that, 'twas charity to bring him home;
They rubb'd and chaf'd him, ply'd him with Strong water,
Still he was senseless, clamors could not wake him;
I wish'd 'em then get him to bed, they did so,
And almost smother'd him with ruggs and pillows;
And 'cause they should have no cause to suspect me,
I watch'd them till he wak'd.
_Lur._ 'Twas excellent.
_Boy._ When his time came to yawn, and stretch himself,
I bid 'em not be hasty to discover
How he was brought home; his eyes fully open
With trembling he began to call his servants,
And told 'em he had seen strange visions,
That should convert him from his heathen courses;
They wondred, and were silent, there he preach'd
How sweet the air of a contented conscience
Smelt in his nose now, ask'd 'em all forgiveness
For their hard pasture since they liv'd with him;
Bid 'em believe, and fetch out the cold Sur-loin;
Pierce the strong beer, and let the neighbors joy in't:
The conceal'd Muskadine should now lie open
To every mouth; that he would give to th' poor,
And mend their wages; that his doors should be
Open to every miserable sutor.
_Lur._ What said his servants then?
_Boy._ They durst not speak,
But blest themselves, and the strange means that had
Made him a Christian in this over-joy,
I took my leave, and bad 'em say their prayers,
And humor him, lest he turn'd Jew agen.
_Lur._ Enough, enough. Who's this?
_Enter_ Toby.
'Tis one of my ringers; stand close, my Ladies Coachman.
_To._ Buy a mat for a bed, buy a mat;
Would I were at rack and manger among my horses;
We have divided the Sextons
Houshold-stuff among us, one has the rugg, and he's
Turn'd Irish, and another has a blanket, and he must beg in't,
The sheets serve another for a frock, and with the bed-cord,
He may pass for a Porter, nothing but the mat would fall
To my share, which with the help of a tune and a hassock
Out o'th' Church, may disguise me till I get home;
A pox o' bell-ringing by the ear, if any man take me
At it agen, let him pull mine to the Pillory: I could wish
I had lost mine ears, so I had my cloaths again:
The weather wo'not allow this fashion,
I do look for an Ague besides.
_Lur._ How the raskal shakes!
_To._ Here are company:
Buy a Mat for a Bed, buy a Mat,
A hassock for your feet, or a Piss clean and sweet;
Buy a Mat for a Bed, buy a Mat:
Ringing I renounce thee, I'll never come to church more.
_Lur._ You with a Mat.
_Tob._ I am call'd.
If any one should offer to buy my Mat, what a case were I in?
Oh that I were in my Oat-tub with a horse-loaf,
Something to hearten me:
I dare not hear 'em;
Buy a mat for a bed, buy a mat.
_Lur._ He's deaf.
_Tob._ I am glad I am: buy a mat for a bed.
_Lur._ How the raskal sweats! What a pickle he's in!
Every street he goes through will be a new torment.
_Tob._ If ever I meet at midnight more a jangling:
I am cold, and yet I drop; buy a mat for a bed, buy a mat.
_Lur._ He has punishment enough. [_Exit._
_Enter_ Wildbrain.
Who's this, my tother youth? he is turn'd Bear.
_Wild._ I am halfe afraid of my self: this poor shift
I got 'o th' Sexton to convey me handsomly
To some harbor, the wench will hardly know me;
They'll take me for some Watchman o'th' parish;
I ha ne'r a penny left me, that's one comfort;
And ringing has begot a monstrous stomach,
And that's another mischief: I were best go home,
For every thing will scorn me in this habit.
Besides, I am so full of these young bell-ringers;
If I get in adoors, not the power o'th' countrey,
Nor all my Aunts curses shall disembogue me.
_Lur._ Bid her come hither presently,--hum, 'tis he. [_Exit. Serv._
_Wild._ I am betraid to one that will eternally laugh at me,
Three of these rogues will jeer a horse to death.
_Lur._ 'Tis Mr. _Wildbrain_ sure, and yet me thinks
His fashion's strangely alt'red, sirrah Watchman,
You ragamuffin, turn you louzie Bears skin:
You with the Bed-rid Bill.
_Wild._ H'as found me out;
There's no avoiding him, I had rather now
Be arraign'd at _Newgate_ for a robbery,
Than answer to his Articles: your Will Sir,
I am in haste.
_Lur._ Nay, then I will make bold wi'ye;
A Watchman, and asham'd to shew his countenance,
His face of authority? I have seen that physiognomy;
Were you never in prison for pilfering?
_Wild._ How the rogue worries me.
_Lur._ Why may not this
Be the villain robb'd my house last night,
And walks disguis'd in this malignant rugg,
Arm'd with a tun of Iron? I will have you
Before a Magistrate.
_Wild._ What will become of me?
_Lur._ What art thou? speak.
_Wild._ I am the wandring Jew, and please your worship.
_Lur._ By your leave _Rabbi_, I will shew you then
A Synagogue, iclip't _Bridewel_, where you,
Under correction, may rest your self:
You have brought a bill to guard you, there be dog-wh[ip]s
To firk such rugg'd currs, whips without bells
Indeed.
_Wild._ Bells.
_Lur._ How he sweats!
_Wild._ I must be known, as good at first; now jeer on,
But do not anger me too impudently,
The _Rabbi_ will be mov'd then.
_Lur._ How? _Jack Wildbrain_,
What time o'th' Moon man, ha? what strange bells
Hast in thy brains?
_Wild._ No more bells,
No more bells, they ring backwards.
_Lur._ Why, where's the wench, the blessing that befel thee?
The unexpected happiness? where's that _Jack_?
Where are thy golden days?
_Wild._ It was his trick, as sure as I am louzie,
But how to be reveng'd--
_Lur._ Fie, fie, _Jack_,
Marry a Watchmans widow in thy young daies,
With a revenue of old Iron and a Rugg?
Is this the Paragon, the dainty piece,
The delicate divine rogue?
_Wild._ 'Tis enough, I am undone,
Mark'd for a misery, and so leave prating;
Give me my Bill.
_Lur._ You need not ask your Taylors,
Unless you had better Linings; it may be,
To avoid suspition, you are going thus
Disguis'd to your fair Mistriss.
_Wild._ Mock no further,
Or as I live, I'll lay my Bill o' thy pate,
I'll take a Watchmans fury into my fingers,
To ha no judgement to distinguish persons,
And knock thee down.
_Lur._ Come, I ha done, and now
Will speak some comfort to thee, I will lead thee
Now to my Mistriss hitherto conceal'd;
She shall take pity on thee too, she loves
A handsome man; thy misery invites me
To do thee good, I'll not be jealous, _Jack_;
Her beauty shall commend it self; but do not,
When I have brought you into grace, supplant me.
_Wild._ Art thou in earnest? by this cold Iron--
_Lur._ No oaths, I am not costive; here she comes.
_Enter Mistriss._
Sweet-heart, I have brought a Gentleman,
A friend of mine to be acquainted with you,
He's other than he seems; why d'ye stare thus?
_Mist._ Oh Sir, forgive me, I have done ye wrong.
_Lur._ What's the matter? didst ever see her afore _Jack_?
_Wild._ Prethee do what thou wot wi'me, if thou hast
A mind, hang me up quickly.