ACTVS
TERTIVS
.
Enter
Sir
Hugh
.
Hugh
.
My
three
moneths
banishment
I
have
observ'd
,
And
now
the
dated
limit
gives
me
leave
to
re-aproach
my
Interdicted
Saint
;
once
more
sweet
love
I
doe
invoke
thy
Power
,
to
blesse
my
poore
unspotted
Sacrifice
,
the
offering
Of
a
loving
loyall
heart
:
This
is
the
customary
retirement
Where
daily
she
frequents
,
this
speakes
her
name
,
and
speakes
Her
vertues
in
a
bubling
murmur
,
which
many
ages
after
her
Ascent
up
to
that
glorious
Asterisine
above
,
shall
keepe
And
tell
to
long
Posterities
,
within
this
liquid
Oracle
shall
be
Read
,
heaven
wrought
a
miracle
for
Winifred
,
heere
Ile
Lies
down
Awaite
,
and
while
my
tongue
takes
rest
,
solace
my
thought
.
Enter
Winifred
,
with
a
booke
and
a
servant
.
Win.
Returne
and
give
notice
to
Amphiabell
,
that
I
am
walk't
Abroad
,
as
he
intreated
.
Ser.
I
will
Madam
.
Win,
His
company
is
sweet
fellowship
;
wanton
folly
,
thou
hast
No
harbour
in
Amphiabell
,
but
high
and
holy
meditations
,
Rare
vertues
in
a
Prince
,
the
example's
good
,
and
I
will
follow
It
;
yea
if
thou
goest
into
the
Militant
Field
of
Martyrdome
.
Ha
,
who's
that
?
this
is
not
the
company
that
my
desires
doe
with
.
Hugh
.
Nay
stay
sweet
Virgin
,
rather
let
me
leave
the
place
,
Whose
presence
offends
the
place
;
yet
,
if
you
vouchsafe
,
Offend
I
may
by
your
construction
,
but
not
by
willing
heart
.
Win.
I
feare
your
method
sir
,
would
I
might
erre
in
false
Supposition
,
speake
and
Ile
tell
you
.
Hugh
.
My
three
moneths
exile
is
expired
.
Win.
And
you
have
well
observ'd
it
?
Hugh
.
Then
give
me
leave
to
re-atempt
my
suite
,
which
I
have
Kept
a
painefull
sojourner
in
my
unquiet
bosome
.
Win.
'Twas
your
owne
tyranny
to
adde
to
my
injunction
,
I
crav'd
But
one
moneth
,
and
you
would
proffer
three
.
Hugh
.
'Twas
folly
in
my
duty
.
Win.
Which
still
you
doe
persist
in
,
for
since
you
left
me
I
am
contract
and
wedded
.
Hugh
.
Am
I
out
rivald
?
Win.
War
not
with
heaven
sir
,
to
that
is
ty'd
my
Nuptiall
Gordion
,
within
you
house
of
starres
the
Bride-groome
sits
,
And
there
the
Spousall
chamber
is
prepard
,
you
are
the
Golden
Himoneall
flames
,
whose
spherick
Musicke
,
Chast
Hallelujahs
sing
,
to
celebration
of
my
Virgin
rights
:
Oh
labour
not
then
to
divorce
me
thence
,
since
all
the
fruit
Will
be
but
vaine
expence
:
my
love
is
fixt
,
and
we
have
But
one
love
;
you
seeke
for
that
below
that's
gone
above
.
Hugh
.
You
are
too
obstinate
.
Win.
O
chide
your selfe
sir
,
'tis
your
owne
sin
,
you
are
too
obstinate
To
persevere
against
a
decree
of
Fate
:
be
this
the
finall
answer
to
Your
suite
;
if
ever
mortall
man
have
attribute
of
Winifreds
Husband
,
'T
shall
be
Sir
Hugh
,
if
it
be
debt
to
any
'tis
your
due
.
Hugh
.
A
desperate
debt
,
hopelesse
of
recovery
.
Win.
And
as
the
test
to
your
faire
seeming
love
,
whether
it
Noble
Were
or
counterfeit
,
by
its
best
vertue
here
I
charge
you
Sir
,
To
move
no
further
questions
at
this
time
,
for
if
you
speake
I
will
not
answer
you
;
you
may
in
silence
stay
:
Thus
doe
I
turne
setting
the
world
a
part
,
Here
fixe
mine
eyes
,
and
with
mine
eyes
my
heart
.
Hugh
.
Thou
gilded
poyson
,
my
tongue
is
silent
,
but
my
unquiet
Thoughts
will
still
take
leave
,
to
thinke
of
thy
perverse
Unkind
disdaine
;
Ile
thinke
thee
peevish
,
and
blame
all
Thy
Sects
for
thy selfe
sin
,
for
thou
wert
all
to
me
;
Vanish
all
State
,
and
Wales
bow
to
the
yoke
of
Tyrants
Servitude
,
noe
defensive
stroake
shall
this
Arme
lift
To
save
me
from
thy
thrale
:
rest
there
regard
lesse
honour
,
And
take
a
fall
before
thy
pride
;
hence
forth
some
Humble
meane
,
that
will
afford
but
merit
to
my
paine
,
Shall
be
my
lives
trafficke
,
Ile
never
mind
This
,
or
too
fickle
,
or
too
cruell
kind
,
But
thus
conclude
,
for
thee
I
prove
accurst
,
Extreame
in
both
,
thou
art
both
best
and
worst
.
Exit
Hugh
.
Enter
Amphiabell
.
Win.
Whose
there
Amphiabell
?
Am.
Yes
vertuous
Lady
.
Win.
Thou
abidest
still
.
Am.
To
death
:
Christians
tire
not
till
they
be
out
of
breath
,
Life
labours
here
,
at
death
the
wage
doth
come
,
Which
Tyrants
pay
in
Crownes
of
Martyrdome
.
Enter
Bassianus
,
Lutio
,
and
Romans
.
Bass.
We
forage
unresisted
:
soft
who
are
these
?
Lut.
Ceaze
first
,
and
then
examine
.
Am.
Two
,
that
will
neither
fly
,
nor
resist
your
force
.
Bass.
Then
you
will
surely
dye
Amphiabell
.
Am.
Yes
.
Bass.
And
the
holy
Virgin
.
Win.
So
,
unhappy
Tyrant
.
Bass.
The
Triumphs
of
our
Wars
;
here
persuite
shall
stay
,
In
your
surprise
we
have
atchiev'd
the
day
.
Win.
Ring
out
your
triumphs
loude
,
'tis
a
large
boast
,
You
have
gain'd
much
,
and
we
have
nothing
lost
.
Bass.
Thou
art
a
traytor
Capitall
to
Rome
,
from
whence
thy
Knightly
honors
were
deriv'd
,
'twas
thy
seditious
Heresie
that
wrought
the
wracke
of
honor'd
Albon
,
even
This
Lady
hast
thous
seduc'd
,
a
mercifull
sommons
now
cals
His
last
to
thee
,
turne
unto
Rome
,
and
worship
give
unto
Our
Golden
gods
.
Am.
No
,
I
will
not
;
when
I
crave
mercy
,
give
it
.
Win.
Thou
debuty
tyrant
,
this
place
is
hallowed
;
doe
not
awake
the
thunder
,
if
it
strike
,
the
boult
will
fall
downe
Perpendicular
,
and
strike
thee
under
mercy
.
Bass.
Ha
,
ha
,
ha
;
what
pretty
dreames
these
Christians
Apprehend
:
They
say
your
well
is
very
Soveraigne
to
cure
the
Itch
,
I
have
got
a
scab
,
to day
Ile
try
the
vertue
of
your
Virgin
water
,
'tis
good
for
sore
eyes
too
,
ist
not
?
mine
Are
some
thing
Rhumaticke
.
Win.
Doe
,
play
with
Lightning
till
it
blasts
thee
.
Lut.
Oh!
here's
hell
,
witchcraft
,
my
eyes
are
lost
,
this
sorcerous
Poole
hath
tane
away
my
sight
:
witch
He
find
thee
out
,
And
breake
thy
Magicke
,
by
drawing
of
thy
blood
.
Bass.
Has
wounded
me
.
Win.
Lay
hold
upon
him
,
hee'le
doe
more
mischeife
else
.
Lut.
Guide
me
to
the
divill
.
Win.
Thou
art
going
right
blind-fold
,
hold
fast
his
hands
,
I
will
be
Charitable
unto
my
persecutors
:
now
see
the
change
,
Vertue
,
abus'd
turnes
unto
damage
more
,
By
helpe
of
heaven
thus
I
thine
eyes
restore
.
Lut.
Ha
,
is't
day
agen
?
Win.
Wilt
thou
understand
from
whence
thy
succour
comes
?
Lut.
From
Apollo
,
and
Iupiter
,
the
gods
of
Rome
,
Who
would
not
see
a
witch
abuse
their
creature
,
away
with
Her
to
th'
fire
till
she
be
burnt
and
dead
,
mine
eyes
Will
stand
in
feare
within
my
head
.
Bass.
Let
them
be
garded
unto
Verolome
,
where
first
they
shall
Behold
the
dreadfull
sufferings
of
revolted
Albon
,
As
you
looke
on
,
and
see
his
tortures
please
,
follow
destruction
.
Win.
Come
constant
friend
,
now
comes
the
wished
day
,
The
path
to
blisse
is
through
a
thorny
way
.
Exeunt
.
Enter
with
a
Trumpet
,
Rutullus
,
Shoo-maker
,
and
his
Wife
.
Shoo.
One
out
of
my
house
my
Lord
?
I
am
the
Princes
Shoo-maker
,
Will
not
that
excuse
me
?
Rut.
My
Commission's
strict
,
let
me
see
your
house-hold
.
Shoo.
I
know
not
which
to
part
with
beleeve
me
sir
,
But
you
shall
see
them
all
,
Ralph
,
Barnaby
,
Crispinus
,
Crispianus
,
appeare
my
boyes
?
Enter
Ralph
and
Crispianus
.
Shoo.
Looke
,
here's
most
of
my
store
.
Rut.
The
worst
of
these
will
serve
;
but
here's
not
all
.
Shoo.
Barnaby
,
where's
Barnaby
?
Wife
.
That
knave
will
still
be
backward
:
why
Barnaby
.
Enter
Barnaby
,
with
a
Kercher
on
.
Bar.
Oh
,
oh
,
oh
.
Shoo.
Why
how
now
Barnaby
,
what
falne
sicke
o'th'
sudden
Bar
?
Oh
Master
,
I
have
such
a
singing
in
my
head
,
my
toes
are
Crampt
too
.
Shoo.
What
from
head
to
foot
already
,
where
lyes
thy
paine
?
Here
,
here
about
my
heart
Mr.
I
have
an
Issue
here
too
,
Bar.
Oh
Master
,
if
you
did
but
feele
what
a
breath
comes
out
,
You
would
stop
your
nose
in't
.
Wife
.
Come
,
come
,
you
are
a
lazy
knave
,
you
must
be
prest
for
a
Souldier
Bar.
Oh
dame
,
Ile
confesse
and
be
hang'd
rather
then
Ile
bee
prest
.
Cris.
The
Drums
and
Trumpets
will
revive
thee
man
.
Bar.
Alas
,
if
I
heare
any
noise
I'me
a
dead
man
.
Shoo.
Ralph
,
what
sayst
thou
,
wilt
thou
serve
the
King
?
Ral.
I
cannot
serve
a
better
Mr.
if
the
King
does
entertaine
me
,
Ile
doe
him
the
best
service
that
I
can
.
Cris.
I
beseech
you
sir
let
me
excuse
the
rest
:
I
have
a
mind
To
meet
a
foe
i'th
field
,
meethinks
I
could
performe
Some
worthy
act
,
that
at
my
backe
returne
,
You
should
be
proud
to
say
my
Servant
did
it
.
Shoo.
Yee
,
saist
thou
so
boy
?
I
like
thy
forwardnesse
,
But
I'de
be
loath
to
leese
thee
yet
.
Wife
,
Alas
man
the
boyes
yong
,
his
tender
limbes
are
scarce
Well
joynted
yet
,
let
Ralph
,
or
Barnaby
,
undertake
that
taske
,
'Tis
sitter
for
either
.
Bar.
Oh
a
little
aqua-compositar
:
good
dame
,
I
have
a
quaking
Ague
come
upon
me
.
Wife
.
A
feaver
lurden
have
you
not
?
you
lazy
knave
you
,
Wilt
thou
let
a
boy
out
dare
thee
?
Cris.
Good
dame
perswade
him
not
against
his
heart
,
such
brave
designes
As
Souldiers
undergoe
,
should
not
be
forc'd
,
but
free
and
voluntary
.
A
Coward
in
a
Campe
more
spoyles
an
Army
by
faint
example
of
his
frozen
blood
,
than
a
full
Squadron
of
the
daring'st
foes
Surprizingst
advantage
.
Rut.
A
forward
spirit
,
Such
a
faire
promise
cannot
want
performance
:
Thou
shalt
be
my
choise
;
accept
thy
presse-money
,
and
for
the
hopes
That
I
expect
from
thee
,
thy
Ranke
shall
not
be
common
.
Wife
.
Alack
,
alack
,
the
Boy
is
forward
,
but
farre
unable
;
Sir
pray
spare
him
and
take
either
of
these
.
Bar.
Oh
,
I
have
a
stitch
in
my
Elbow
here
;
a
little
Parmacadius
.
Wife
.
A
false
stitch
I
warrant
thee
,
the
Warres
will
pick
it
out
.
Shoo.
Peace
Sisley
;
Boy
,
since
thou
art
so
forward
,
I
will
not
stay
The
freedome
of
thy
spirit
;
so
I
might
hinder
thee
from
better
hopes
Than
my
poore
substance
could
endow
thee
with
:
goe
,
And
good
fortune
keepe
thee
company
;
if
thou
return'st
,
thou
shalt
Be
welcome
still
.
I
must
be
willing
though
against
my
will
,
To
leave
thee
Boy
.
Wife
.
And
welcome
shalt
thou
be
to
thy
Dame
boy
;
if
there
come
but
a
leg
on
thee
back
,
the
worst
member
thou
hast
,
shall
be
welcome
to
me
;
lame
or
blind
,
if
thou
comm'st
back
,
thou
shalt
want
no
Hospitall-pention
as
long
as
I
live
.
Shoo.
Gramercy
for
that
Sis
;
Ile
fell
all
the
shooes
in
my
Shop
Before
my
lame
Souldier
shall
be
kept
in
an
Hospitall
.
Crispia.
Your
loves
are
Parent-like
,
not
as
to
a
servant
,
but
a
child
:
The
Heavens
in
safety
keepe
you
;
my
prayers
in
duty
shall
be
Here
at
home
,
when
my
bodie's
distant
.
I
beseech
you
Sir
,
Commend
me
to
my
Brother
Raph
,
Barnaby
farewell
.
Bar.
Farewell
good
Crispian
.
I
shall
never
see
thee
more
.
Crispia.
Tush
,
feare
not
;
nay
,
if
e're
I
doe
returne
,
Ile
bring
home
Stories
that
we'le
turne
to
Meeter
,
&
sing
away
our
work
with
'em
.
Bar.
Farewell
Crispianus
.
Crispia.
Master
and
Dame
,
once
more
I
bid
farewell
,
'Tis
brave
to
dye
where
Trumpets
ring
the
Knell
.
Rut.
Come
Crispianus
.
Wife
.
Well
,
goe
thy
wayes
,
and
take
the
kindest
youth
with
thee
,
that
e're
set
foot
in
the
stirrup
.
Shoo.
How
now
Barnaby
,
art
any
thing
better
yet
?
Bar.
I
am
somewhat
better
than
I
was
Master
;
I
doe
begin
to
feele
my selfe
better
and
better
.
Wife
.
Oh
you
are
a
cunning
counterfeit
knave
sirrah
.
Bar.
O
Mistresse
,
there
is
alwayes
policy
in
Warres
as
well
as
blowes
:
if
it
be
good
sleeping
in
a
whole
skinne
,
it
must
needs
be
bad
sleeping
in
a
broken
one
;
and
he
that
cannot
sleepe
well
,
it
is
a
signe
he
cannot
drinke
well
;
and
he
that
does
not
drinke
well
,
never
digests
his
meate
well
;
and
he
that
digests
not
his
meate
well
,
'tis
a
signe
he
h'as
not
a
good
stomack
;
and
hee
that
h'as
not
a
good
stomacke
,
is
not
fit
for
the
Warres
.
I
did
thinke
it
better
to
stay
at
home
truely
Master
.
Shoo.
The
end
is
,
thou
hadst
rather
worke
than
fight
Boy
:
I
had
rather
thou
shou'dst
too
:
but
I
wonder
I
heare
not
of
Crispinus
yet
.
Wife
.
Truely
man
I
am
affraid
hee's
prest
at
Canterbury
.
Enter
Crispinus
.
Crisp.
All
the
way
'twixt
this
and
Canterbury
will
not
afford
me
An
excuse
sufficient
for
tarrying
so
long
out
of
my
Masters
house
:
The
truth
I
dare
not
tell
,
'twere
better
lye
than
confesse
my
Lying
with
the
Emperors
Daughter
,
though
the
case
be
honest
,
Being
my
Wife
:
Well
,
somewhat
it
must
be
,
I
know
not
what
yet
;
If
I
endure
a
rough
chiding
for
my
paines
,
it
is
but
sawce
to
sweete
Meates
.
Shoo.
Looke
,
looke
Wife
,
hee's
come
:
why
how
now
Crispinus
,
How
comes
it
you
have
stayd
so
long
?
Wife
.
O
you
are
a
fine
loytering
youth
,
what
,
lye
out
of
your
Masters
house
!
Crisp.
Your
pardon
once
good
Dame
,
I
was
in
no
bad
company
.
Wife
.
Who
knows
that
sir
?
you
frighted
both
your
Master
&
me
;
We
thought
you
had
beene
prest
for
a
Souldier
,
as
your
Brother
is
.
Crisp.
So
now
my
Dame
h'as
helpt
me
to
an
excuse
:
Why
truely
Dame
that
was
my
feare
;
I
was
saine
to
shroud
my selfe
in
the
Court
all
night
for
feare
of
the
presse
.
Shoo.
Nay
then
'twas
wel
done
Boy
,
I
wou'd
not
have
lost
thee
too
.
Wife
.
I
,
I
,
the
flower's
pluckt
,
but
the
weed
remaines
;
thy
brother
that's
gone
,
would
not
have
serv'd
me
so
.
Shoo.
Peace
good
Eve
,
no
more
words
,
the
excuse
is
honest
.
Wife
.
I
,
I
,
you'le
marre
'em
all
:
but
he
had
better
beene
a sleep
.
Bar.
Well
Cozen
Hugh
,
I
will
doe
my
best
to
instruct
thee
:
But
you
must
take
heed
there
be
no
Turky-cocks
in
your
worke
.
Hugh
.
When
I
understand
the
English
Sir
,
Ile
observe
you
.
Bar.
Your
Turky-cock
is
as
much
as
to
say
,
Coble
,
coble
,
coble
;
You
must
take
heed
of
cobling
.
Shoo.
Come
on
good
fellow
,
Ile
teech
thee
a
good
Trade
:
A
Gentleman
,
if
he
want
better
meanes
,
may
live
well
by
it
;
And
this
Ile
promise
thee
after
some
tearme
of
yeeres
to
make
thee
free
:
Or
if
thou
dye
,
and
that's
a
Christians
best
Ile
see
thy
bones
laid
quietly
to
rest
.
Exeunt
.
Enter
Dioclesian
,
the
Eagle
borne
before
him
at
one
doore
,
at
the
other
,
Huldrick
and
Rodrick
,
Kings
of
the
Goths
and
Vandalls
,
with
their
Army
.
Diocle.
Advance
the
Roman
Eagle
,
and
command
Our
armed
Legions
to
troope
close
,
and
stand
.
Rod.
The
Romans
are
in
fight
,
Drummes
beate
a
parley
.
Diocle.
Death
blurre
their
parley
,
wee'le
not
answer
The
thunder
of
their
Drummes
:
our
Eagle
shall
not
nesell
by
base
Ravens
,
but
to
peck
out
their
eyes
;
our
Swords
shall
answer
The
Thunder
of
their
Drummes
,
the
Roman
Caesar
holds
scorne
To
parley
with
such
servile
Nations
,
as
you
the
barbarous
Vandalls
And
Goths
,
poore
frozen
Snakes
,
that
from
the
Northerne
cold
Creepe
to
the
warmth
of
the
Sunnes
Westerne
fires
,
Troubling
our
fertile
Lands
,
and
like
starv'd
sheepe
,
You
spoyle
the
Countries
with
a
line
you
keepe
in
Regions
beggerly
.
Hul.
Dioclesian
,
heare
me
.
Diocle.
What
croakes
the
Raven
?
Hul.
Proud
Roman
this
:
if
here
thou
longer
stay
,
Hee'le
peck
thine
Eagles
eyes
out
,
make
thee
a
prey
To
his
sterne
Gripe
,
whose
dismall
beake
now
sings
the
sudden
ruine
Diocle.
Of
two
barbarous
Kings
.
Rod.
Insulting
Tyrant
,
stop
thy
scandalous
breath
,
Thy
blood
shall
finde
us
Kings
and
Souldiers
both
:
We
are
a
swelling
Sea
,
and
our
owne
Barkes
,
Not
large
enough
to
bound
us
,
are
broke
forth
Like
a
resistlesse
Torrent
to
o'rewhelme
and
drowne
In
blood
all
Nations
that
withstand
us
.
Thou
seest
already
Germany
is
ours
;
so
shall
faire
France
be
,
At
least
those
parts
that
lye
upon
the
Rhine
,
and
fertile
Burgundy
Which
if
thou
grant
before
the
Battailes
joyne
,
We
will
retire
,
and
league
with
thee
and
Rome
.
Diocle.
Ha
,
ha
,
ha
;
must
Lyons
be
inforc'd
to
league
with
Wolves
.
Hul.
If
thou
deny
it
,
By
the
glorious
Sunne
,
and
all
the
Deities
our
men
adore
,
Wee'le
forage
up
to
Rome
and
Italy
,
and
fit
In
tryumph
in
your
Capitol
:
the
Vandals
and
the
Goaths
shall
carve
Their
fames
as
deepe
as
now
the
Romans
doe
their
Names
:
Raise
up
as
many
Trophies
,
and
as
high
,
In
brazen
pillars
of
their
victory
.
Diocle.
Poore
Flies
,
behold
the
Eagle
,
and
give
o're
;
Strive
not
to
cope
with
strength
beyond
your
power
,
For
us
she
spreads
her
wings
as
farre
and
bright
,
As
in
a
Day
the
Sunne
rides
with
his
light
,
And
that's
the
universall
Globe
of
Earth
:
Europes
proud
throat
we
tread
on
:
Affrick
and
Asia
our
Eagles
talents
gripe
,
The
Lords
of
Rome
fadome
both
Land
and
Deepe
.
Rod.
New
Lords
new
Lawes
renew
,
As
you
of
others
,
wee'le
be
Lords
of
you
.
Diocle.
Wee'le
heare
no
more
;
call
up
the
Brittaine
Souldiers
Our
Brother
Maximinus
sent
unto
our
aide
,
let
'em
begin
the
battell
,
Fight
like
Romans
:
Remember
this
,
your
enemies
are
base
;
Let
your
Swords
worke
like
Sithes
confound
these
swarmes
,
And
sweepe
these
Locusts
hence
with
conquering
Armes
.
Exeunt
.
Alarum
.
Enter
Roderick
and
Huldrick
with
Souldiers
at
one
doore
,
at
the
other
,
Crispianus
and
Brittaines
,
fight
and
drive
off
the
Vandals
.
Enter
Roderick
and
Huldrick
.
Rod.
These
Romans
fight
like
devils
.
Hul.
Spirits
infernall
could
not
charge
so
hotly
;
Disgrac't
i'th'
onset
:
Counsell
Roderick
,
what's
to
be
done
?
Our
men
slye
,
not
able
to
endure
'em
.
Rod.
Knit
all
our
Nerves
in
one
;
Renowned
Huldricke
hye
to
thy
Troopes
,
And
with
thy
valiant
Goths
assaile
the
Romans
In
their
hinmost
Flankes
,
and
breake
into
their
maine
Battalia
;
Whilst
here
I
stay
,
and
hold
the
Brittaines
play
.
Hul.
I
like
it
well
;
divided
Armes
thrive
best
,
This
day
weele
climbe
the
lofty
Eagles
nest
.
Exit
.
Enter
Dioclesian
.
Dioc.
Turne
thee
base
Vandal
.
Rod.
Roman
'tis
thee
I
seeke
.
Dioc.
And
thou
hast
found
mee
;
He
teach
thee
speake
the
Roman
Language
.
Rod.
And
thou
shalt
learne
from
me
the
Art
of
Warre
,
And
Discipline
of
Armes
the
Vandals
teach
.
Dioc.
A
Fencer
tis
agreed
.
The
Schoole
tricke
thou
shalt
learne
at
first
blow
.
Alarum
.
Rodericke
hath
Dioclesian
downe
:
Crispianus
fights
with
Rodericke
and
rescues
him
;
and
beates
off
Rodericke
.
Dioc.
What
art
thou
that
hast
saved
me
?
Cris.
A
Souldier
:
What
art
thou
so
saved
?
Dioc.
An
Emperour
.
Cris.
Thou
art
saved
then
by
a
Warlike
Brittaine
souldier
:
And
had
I
many
lives
as
drops
of
blood
,
I'de
spend
them
all
to
doe
great
Caesar
good
.
Dioc.
I
thanke
thee
:
follow
thy
fortunes
,
and
goe
on
;
The
gods
of
Rome
fit
on
thy
weapon
still
:
The
battaile
ended
,
see
me
in
my
Tent
.
Cris.
I
will
.
Exit
.
Dioc.
Immortall
gods
!
How
crept
a
Kingly
spirit
into
a
breast
so
low
!
How
now
,
how
goes
the
day
?
Enter
a
Roman
.
Rom.
Bloody
and
dismell
;
Huldrick
K.
of
Goths
entred
our
Ranks
,
And
like
a
Whirlewinde
,
sweepes
,
and
beates
downe
our
maine
,
Battalia
,
seizing
by
force
the
Roman
Eagle
.
Dioc.
How
Traitor
?
Rom.
Beleeve
it
fir
'tis
lost
,
and
now
in
triumphe
O're
his
Plume
she
claps
her
wings
on
high
,
With
ecchoing
shout
of
present
victory
.
Dioc.
The
Roman
gods
forbid
:
Let
a
Trumpet
call
up
the
Britains
to
recover
it
.
Exit
.
Enter
Huldricke
King
of
Gothes
.
Hul.
Yeeld
thee
proud
Roman
,
the
sable
Ravens
plume
Hath
strooke
thy
Eagle
blinde
,
and
blasted
Rome
.
Dioc.
Hand
of
thou
barbarous
slave
;
I
still
can
boast
my
state's
Imperiall
.
Hul.
Tut
,
that
Title's
lost
,
thou
art
now
Within
my
power
:
flye
to
King
Rodericke
,
And
glad
his
eares
with
newes
of
what
you
see
,
And
with
our
Drummes
proclaime
the
victory
.
Enter
Crispianus
with
Eagle
and
Souldiers
.
Cris.
Base
Goth
looke
up
,
and
see
here
hovers
Eagle
Winged
victory
,
recoverd
from
thy
troopes
.
Hul.
S'death
lost
agen
.
Dioc.
Fight
Warlike
Brittaines
,
free
your
Emperour
.
Cris.
We
shall
,
or
dye
:
This
holds
the
Goths
death
;
this
thy
liberty
.
Alarum
:
Crispianus
fights
with
his
sword
in
one
hand
,
and
the
Eagle
in
the
other
:
he
kills
Huldricke
,
and
frees
Dioclesian
.
Dioc.
Twice
is
my
life
indebted
to
thy
valour
:
Admired
Souldier
,
if
I
winne
the
day
,
Never
had
Brittaine
Souldier
such
a
pay
As
thou
shalt
have
.
Cris.
Talke
not
of
debts
,
or
pay
,
let's
hence
and
fight
;
As
long
as
I
have
breath
Ile
hold
your
right
.
Souldiers
troope
close
,
our
taske
is
not
yet
done
;
Ile
keepe
your
Eagle
till
the
battaile's
wonne
.
Dioc.
Keepe
it
with
fame
.
Crisp.
Even
to
my
latest
breath
.
Exit
.
Dioc.
The
glory's
thine
,
thou
hast
sav'd
me
twice
from
death
.
Alarum
:
a
shout
within
:
Enter
Rodericke
and
Vandals
.
Rod.
This
Brittaines
are
all
Divells
,
And
amongst
them
there's
one
master
Divell
,
That
beares
the
face
of
a
base
Common
souldier
;
Yet
on
his
hornes
he
tosseth
up
our
Vandals
.
Now
,
what
Newes
?
Enter
a
Captaine
.
Cap.
Rodericke
flye
,
and
save
thy
life
;
Huldrick
the
King
of
Goths
is
slaine
.
Rod.
I
out
goe
him
in
life
,
he
me
in
fame
:
In
spight
weele
after
him
with
glorious
wings
,
A
bloody
field
is
a
brave
Tombe
for
Kings
.
Cap.
Hazard
not
all
at
one
cast
,
since
you
see
The
Dice
runnes
high
against
yee
;
but
give
way
,
Set
not
the
board
when
you
see
fortune
play
:
Winning
the
maine
no
safety
'tis
to
fight
.
Rod.
How
then
?
Cap.
Over
the
Rhine
my
Lord
make
speedy
flight
;
The
wheele
of
Chance
may
turne
,
and
the
dice
runne
For
us
to
get
,
what
now
our
foes
have
wonne
.
A
shout
within
:
Enter
Crispianus
and
the
rest
,
driving
off
the
Vandals
:
he
takes
Rodericke
prisoner
;
a
retreat
sounded
:
Enter
Dioclesian
with
victory
.
Crisp.
Now
to
the
Royall
hand
of
Caesar
I
resigne
The
high
Imperiall
Ensigne
of
great
Rome
;
And
with
it
,
this
wilde
tusked
Boare
,
the
stubborne
Vandall
,
Snar'd
in
the
toyles
,
and
conquerd
by
this
sword
;
I
could
have
serv'd
his
head
up
at
your
board
:
But
since
for
glory
,
more
than
blood
we
strive
,
I'de
rather
have
a
Lyon
tane
alive
.
Dioc.
Noble
thou
art
,
as
valiant
,
And
this
day
thy
onely
sword
the
greater
halfe
Hath
wonne
,
and
we
must
pay
thy
merits
.
Whats
thy
name
?
Crisp
Crispianus
sir
.
Dioc.
Of
what
birth
or
fortunes
.
Crisp.
You
may
reade
them
here
,
writ
on
my
bosome
sir
:
A
common
Souldier
,
yet
were
my
Parents
Good
and
generous
,
they
dead
,
and
I
downe
sinking
in
my
state
,
As
others
doe
,
I
swore
to
crosse
the
Fate
that
crossed
me
:
and
when
all
hopes
else
did
fade
,
I
got
my
living
by
an
honest
trade
:
A
Shooe-maker
my
Lord
,
where
merrily
,
With
frolicke
mates
,
I
spent
my
dayes
,
till
when
,
Being
prest
to
warres
amongst
my
Countrey-men
,
Hither
I
came
,
and
here
my
prize
is
playd
,
For
Brittaines
honour
,
and
my
Masters
trade
:
This
Vandall
is
my
Prisoner
:
frowne
not
sir
,
Great
lookes
can
nere
put
downe
a
Shooe-maker
.
Rod.
Your
fortune
rises
sir
,
and
I
must
bow
:
I
was
nere
i'th
Shooemakers
stockes
till
now
.
Dioc.
Renowned
Crispianus
,
royall
thankes
shall
to
our
brother
Maximinus
flye
,
for
sending
such
a
Souldier
.
Kneele
downe
,
and
rise
a
Brittaine
Knight
;
Hence
forth
beare
Armes
and
Shield
;
Thou
hast
won
thy
honour
truely
in
the
field
.
Besides
our
gift
,
the
ransome
of
this
King
I
freely
give
;
and
that
thy
same
may
sing
a
lofty
note
,
Backe
to
thy
Countrey
lead
these
Brittaine
Souldiers
,
Over
whom
I
make
thee
head
;
and
to
the
Emperour
Maximinus
thou
shalt
beare
such
Letters
from
our selfe
,
As
he
shall
reare
and
swell
thine
honours
,
And
when
we
in
France
have
laid
These
Whirle-windes
that
now
shake
the
State
,
Weele
crosse
the
seas
to
Brittaine
after
thee
.
Crisp.
The
gods
with
Garlands
crowne
thy
victory
.
Rod.
What
ransome
you
set
downe
Ile
truely
pay
,
And
draw
my
forces
backe
to
Germany
,
There
to
confine
our selves
;
the
Vandals
knee
Now
humbly
bowes
to
th'
Roman
Emperie
.
Dioc.
And
that
obedience
Roderick
weele
imbrace
.
Lead
Crispianus
to
receive
the
Ransome
:
Vandall
and
Goths
;
nay
,
Rome
her selfe
shall
sweare
,
She
never
met
so
brave
a
Shooe-maker
.
A
Flourish
.
Exeunt
.
ACTUS
QUARTUS
.
Enter
Crispinus
and
Leodice
with
childe
.
Cris.
Be
comforted
my
deare
Leodice
.
Leod.
How
can
I
want
sweete
comfort
,
having
thee
?
alack
,
that
Pleasure
stolne
,
being
backe
returnd
,
should
taste
so
sower
:
It
seemes
a
shallow
Ford
,
when
first
'tis
tride
;
But
when
the
depth
we
found
,
It
is
a
gulfe
of
raging
whirle-pooles
found
.
Cris.
I
know
it
Princely
Love
,
and
feare
the
event
;
Love
in
the
paths
of
danger
ever
went
:
The
morning
flames
of
our
desires
burne
bright
,
And
shall
doe
still
in
scorne
of
fortunes
spight
,
If
you
but
feede
the
fire
.
Leod.
O
me
!
'tis
this
I
feare
,
The
burthen
in
my
wombe
our
deaths
doe
beare
.
Cris.
Why
shouldst
thou
feare
the
knot
our
hearts
hath
tide
?
Had
heavens
strength
to
it
;
and
heaven
will
sure
provide
For
those
whose
names
and
faiths
are
written
there
.
Leod.
What
vaile
can
now
be
drawne
to
hide
our
cares
,
Or
keepe
this
secret
from
our
Fathers
eares
.
Of
our
stolne
marriage
?
Cris.
Stay
,
lets
devise
.
Leod.
It
must
be
a
thicke
cloud
darkens
the
Sunne
:
This
day
my
Father
sits
to
cast
deaths
doome
Upon
the
Christians
:
and
that
doome
I
know
The
fruit
this
Land
brings
next
,
must
be
my
woe
.
Cris.
I
prethee
peace
,
the
clocke
of
misery
goes
alwaies
Too
true
:
yet
let
me
see
it
now
.
Leod.
Dearest
I
will
.
Cris.
Doe
this
then
;
if
the
Emperour
call
for
thee
,
Be
sicke
and
keepe
thy
chamber
,
Untill
I
get
some
place
for
thy
delivery
.
Leod.
Sweare
to
me
one
thing
first
.
Cris.
What ever
thou
desirest
.
Leod.
Then
as
thou
art
Princely
bred
,
I
charge
thee
sweare
,
That
as
above
the
world
I
hold
thee
deare
,
Thou
wilt
not
leave
me
,
whatsoever
Thunder
My
Father
throwes
at
thee
:
Kings
frownes
can
be
but
death
:
From
thee
Ile
never
part
unto
my
latest
breath
.
Cris.
By
all
the
truths
that
man
ere
swore
by
,
No
force
of
strength
shall
part
us
.
Leod.
Peace
,
no
more
,
Ile
aske
thee
pardon
for
this
base
Mistrust
:
kisse
thy
gentle
cheeke
,
loving
and
mild
:
I
know
thou
canst
not
leave
thy
wife
and
child
.
O
me
,
I
shall
forget
my
present
safety
:
Deare
heart
stand
by
.
Nurse
,
Who's
within
there
?
Nurse
.
Enter
Nurse
.
Nurs.
Anon
sweet
mouse
.
Leod.
Sweet
honey
Nurse
,
If
the
Emperour
my
father
askes
for
me
,
Say
I
am
not
well
,
and
keepe
my
chamber
.
You
Shooe-maker
a
word
,
Nurs.
Yet
more
worke
for
your
Shooe-maker
,
well
,
well
,
You
play
the
wagge
,
and
I
the
lye
must
tell
.
I
feare
me
there's
a
shooe
wrings
her
i'th
instep
,
of
my
yong
Shooe-makers
making
:
such
fellowes
as
hee
cannot
chuse
but
bee
slippery
companions
;
for
first
they
know
the
length
of
a
Ladies
foote
,
and
then
they
have
such
trickes
to
smooth
her
shooe
,
and
tickle
her
sole
;
as
I
protest
,
if
I
were
a
Shooe-maker
my selfe
,
it
would
make
my
teeth
water
:
what
a
sweete
thing
it
is
,
to
have
a
round
sweete
,
plumpe
,
delicate
Calve
of
a
Ladies
legge
lye
roling
on
his
thigh
,
whilst
he
lies
smoothing
her
fine
silke
stocking
,
slippes
his
hand
to
her
garters
,
and
sometimes
higher
birlady
;
I
have
been
serv'd
so
my selfe
:
there's
many
a
Gallant
,
I
can
tell
you
,
would
give
all
the
shooes
in's
shoppe
to
have
a
shooe-makers
office
in
a
morning
:
Well
,
well
,
I
say
nothing
,
but
I
suspect
something
:
Pitty
of
me
,
shee's
as
broad
behinde
as
I
am
,
and
round
enough
before
:
I
doubt
me
he
has
made
her
a
paire
of
short-heel'd
shooes
with
a
turne-over
:
Come
sweet
Mouse
,
have
you
given
instructions
to
your
Shooe-maker
?
Why
what
a
fellow
art
thou
,
canst
not
finde
a
Last
to
fit
her
yet
?
Leod.
Yes
Nurse
,
he
has
fitted
me
now
.
Nurse
.
That's
well
:
You
must
be
carefull
sirrah
,
you
must
take
true
measure
,
And
fit
her
to
a
haire
,
I
charge
you
.
Cris.
I
warrant
you
Mistris
.
Nurse
.
Mistris
!
gods
me
;
I
am
a
Madam
sir
knave
,
though
I
am
a
Nurse
,
I
can
tell
you
:
Goe
too
,
learne
your
duty
,
and
you
shall
worke
to
me
too
:
when
you
have
done
with
my
Lady
,
you
shall
take
up
my
legge
too
:
Come
sweet
honey
.
Exit
.
Leod.
Adea
my
comfort
.
Cris.
Even
so
my
heart
goes
from
me
:
O
what
waves
swim
Lovers
in
!
of
feares
,
of
hopes
,
of
cares
,
Of
discontents
,
terrours
,
and
dispaires
.
A
thousand
feares
doe
now
my
poore
heart
shake
,
What
medcine's
best
?
Counsell
,
and
that
Ile
take
.
Enter
Barnaby
,
Raph
,
and
Hugh
.
Bar.
Come
,
come
,
an
you
be
men
,
make
haste
:
You
'tis
a
hanging
matter
;
the
Emperour
and
all
the
Prisoners
Are
gone
by
already
.
Raph
Stay
,
stay
,
here's
our
fellow
Crispin
,
let's
take
him
with
us
.
Wilt
thou
goe
along
Crispin
?
Cris.
Whither
should
I
goe
?
prethee
tell
me
,
What
make
you
all
at
Canterbury
?
Bar.
Not
to
buy
the
Cat
a
Bell
Crispin
,
but
to
make
loyter-pins
.
For
this
day
Boy
,
we
have
made
holy
at
Feversham
,
Shut
up
shop
,
throwne
by
our
shooe-thred
,
and
wash't
our
faces
:
And
now
my
Master
and
Dame
,
and
all
of
us
are
come
To
see
the
Emperour
,
and
the
Christians
that
must
dye
to day
.
They
say
there's
a
fine
young
Queene
amongst
them
:
Prethee
goe
along
with
us
.
Cris.
In
sadnesse
I
cannot
.
Bar.
In
madnesse
now
I
care
not
:
For
our
shooes
are
made
of
running
lether
,
And
therefore
wee'le
gallop
no
man
knows
whether
.
Farewell
Crispine
:
shalt
see
my
Dame
come
chasting
this
away
anon
,
'Cause
we
ran
away
from
her
:
Come
fellow
Hugh
,
Thou
art
so
sad
now
,
I
prethee
be
merry
.
Exit
Barnaby
and
Raph.
Hugh
.
Ile
follow
straight
,
although
to
meete
my
ruine
;
The
Princesse
Winifred
is
doom'd
to
die
,
And
I
in
death
will
beare
her
company
.
Exit
.
Cris.
Misery
of
times
when
Kings
doe
kill
,
Not
arm'd
by
Law
to
doe
it
,
but
by
will
.
From
these
deepe
woes
that
my
poore
Countrey
beares
Heaven
save
the
Queene
my
Mother
,
Fates
are
just
,
And
till
the
thred
be
spun
,
none
turne
to
dust
.
Enter
the
Shoomakers
Wife
sweating
.
Wife
.
Fie
,
fie
,
fie
;
Heaven
for
thy
pittie
how
am
I
us'd
to day
!
Here
be
youths
indeed
to
runne
away
,
and
leave
me
in
this
order
.
Doe
I
keepe
one
,
two
,
three
,
foure
,
and
five
journey-men
,
Besides
Prentises
,
uprising
and
downe-lying
,
And
doe
they
all
bob
me
of
this
fashion
?
How
now
,
art
thou
there
Crispine
?
that's
well
:
Did
you
see
your
fellows
?
Cris.
Yes
my
good
Dame
;
they
are
all
before
you
.
Wife
.
Then
Ile
have
you
before
me
too
,
but
not
so
farre
as
they
are
:
Fie
,
fie
,
see
how
I
sweat
with
following
them
:
Come
sir
,
though
they
gave
me
the
slip
,
you'le
not
serve
me
so
I
hope
.
Goe
before
,
and
man
me
.
Cris.
O
my
good
Dame
!
Wife
.
How
now
Crispine
,
what's
the
matter
Boy
?
Why
are
so
many
Chancery
Bills
drawne
in
your
face
?
Now
,
where
sits
the
winde
that
you
blow
so
?
What
ayl'st
thou
?
Cris.
I
have
ever
found
you
a
kind
loving
Dame
,
nay
,
a
good
Mother
Both
to
my selfe
,
and
my
poore
Brother
Crispianus
.
Wife
.
Blesse
him
good
Heaven
,
upon
what
ground
soe're
he
tread
:
He
was
an
honest
fellow
,
and
a
good
servant
,
And
so
he
shall
finde
,
if
e're
he
come
From
the
warres
agen
.
Cris.
Oh
my
good
dame
,
I
to
your
eares
must
now
unlocke
A
secret
,
which
,
if
ere
you
blab
abroad
—
Wif.
Never
by
my
Holy
dame
;
Yet
I
have
much
adoe
to
keepe
my
owne
secrets
,
But
Ile
keepe
thine
Ile
warrant
thee
.
Crisp.
Nay
looke
dame
,
my
life
and
death
lies
on
it
.
Wif.
Let
what
will
lie
on't
,
it
shall
nere
be
talkt
of
by
me
.
Crisp.
Ile
thanke
yee
then
;
This
it
is
,
but
you
will
say
nothing
?
Wif.
Dost
thinke
I
am
a
woman
or
a
beast
?
Cris.
Nor
be
angry
with
me
?
Wif.
Here's
a doe
indeede
,
Thou
hast
not
got
a
wench
with
child
hast
?
Cris.
You
have
found
my
griefe
,
Good
dame
,
indeed
I
have
.
Wif.
Out
upon
thee
Villaine
.
Cris.
Nay
good
Dame
.
Wif.
Hence
you
Whore-master
knave
,
Gods
my
passion
,
got
a
wench
with
childe
,
Thou
naughty
packe
thou
hast
undone
thy selfe
for
ever
:
Precious
coales
,
you
are
a
fine
youth
indeed
,
Can
you
cut
out
no
shooes
but
of
Ducks
leather
,
With
a
wanion
?
has
your
Master
so
little
doings
,
Your
tooles
must
be
working
abroad
in
a
forrainers
shop
?
Cris.
Sweete
Dame
,
you
swore
You
would
say
nothing
.
Wif.
Nothing
,
hang
thee
villaine
,
Ile
cry
it
at
the
Market
Crosse
:
I'faith
,
is
your
Aul
so
free
for
smocke-leather
?
Crisp.
Good
Dame
.
Wif.
By
these
tenne
fingers
Ile
double
thy
yeares
for't
:
Oh
that
I
knew
the
Queane
,
I'de
slit
her
nose
,
And
teare
her
eyes
out
of
her
head
y'faith
.
Enter
Shooe-maker
.
Shoo.
How
now
,
what's
the
matter
that
it
thunders
so
?
Wif.
Oh
,
you
are
as
good
a
Master
too
o'th
to
the
side
:
you
looke
to
your
Prentises
well
;
one
of
your
men
has
beene
at
greene-goose
faire
;
but
he
shall
pay
for
the
sauce
Ile
warrant
him
.
Shoo.
What
Faire
?
what
Sauce
,
goody
gander-goose
?
Wif.
Nay
,
'tis
no
matter
,
as
he
likes
this
,
let
him
dance
the
shaking
of
the
sheetes
another
time
.
Shoo.
What
sheetes
dame
Guiniver
?
what
dance
I
pray
yee
?
Wif.
Marry
uptailes
all
:
doe
you
smell
me
now
?
Shoo.
I
smell
an
Asse
head
of
your
owne
:
what's
all
this
troe
?
Cris.
Pardon
me
Sir
.
Unlesse
you
stand
my
friend
,
Alas
I
am
but
dead
.
Wif.
Dead
,
hang
yee
Rascall
,
hang
yee
;
you
were
quicke
enough
when
you
laid
your
Whore
on
her
backe
,
to
take
measure
of
her
new
shooes
:
Would
you
thinke
it
Husband
,
this
young
knave
has
got
a
wench
with
child
.
Shoo.
Hoyda
,
and
is
this
the
shaking
of
the
sheetes
you
talke
of
,
goodwife
Snipper
Snapper
:
s'foote
I
like
him
the
better
fort
:
he
is
of
your
husbands
trade
,
you
old
whore
,
and
he
has
mettall
in
him
:
dost
scould
for
that
,
hold
your
tongue
with
a
poxe
.
Wif.
I
,
I
,
one
Whore-master
will
take
part
with
another
still
.
Shoo.
Peace
Walflit
,
leave
gaping
.
A
wench
with
child
?
s'fut
in
my
my
capring
dayes
I
have
done
as
much
my selfe
Sis
.
Wif.
I
,
beshrow
your
heart
for
your
labour
.
Shoo.
Peace
Sisley
,
I
shall
sow
up
your
lips
else
;
Let
me
talke
with
my
Prentise
:
Hast
got
a
maid
with
child
saist
?
Wife
.
A
maid
,
marry
hang
her
whore
.
Shoo.
Yet
agen
,
keepe
your
Clacke
,
Ile
slit
your
tongue
else
.
Speake
my
young
Cock-Sparrow
,
what
merry
wagtaile
hast
thou
beene
billing
with
?
Cris.
O
Sir
,
if
any
but
my
dame
and
you
should
know
it
,
I
were
lost
for
ever
.
Shoo
Mum
,
mum
for
my
part
Boy
;
and
you
Margery
Magpye
,
Keepe
your
tongue
from
chattering
,
or
by
the
mary
maskins
Ile
tickle
your
gaskins
:
Come
,
say
,
what
Didapper
was't
?
Cris.
The
Emperours
Daughter
Sir
.
Shoo.
Who
,
the
Princesse
?
Wife
.
Out
upon
thee
Traytor
.
Shoo.
Sfoot
will
Bow-bell
never
leave
ringing
?
will
the
perpetuall
motion
of
your
old
chaps
never
leave
sounding
?
I
shall
beate
your
clapper
out
anon
for't
:
Ah
sirrah
,
goe
too
boy
,
no
Court-mustard
serve
your
turne
but
the
Emperours
Daughter
?
This
is
fine
yfaith
.
Wife
.
Hee'le
smoake
for't
I
warrant
him
.
Shoo.
Why
Wiperginie
,
prating
still
I
say
?
th'ast
drawne
on
her
shooe
handsomely
by
the
Masse
:
Prethee
tell
me
,
how
couldst
thou
being
but
a
poore
Shooemaker
,
climbe
up
to
a
Court-bed-sted
?
Wife
.
Hee'le
climbe
to
the
Gallows
for't
.
Shoo.
Why
Knipperdolin
,
is
the
Devill
in
thee
?
Cris.
I
have
climb'd
farther
Sir
;
shee's
now
my
Wife
,
And
I
have
married
her
.
Wife
.
Hoyda
.
Shoo.
Hush
madge
Howlet
,
leave
hollowing
.
Cris.
That
very
day
my
Brother
was
prest
forth
—
Wife
.
You
prest
her
at
night
,
did
you
?
Shoo.
Grunting
still
you
Sow-guelder
?
Wife
.
Thou
art
a
Coxcombe
and
a
Claperdudgion
:
Dost
thou
see
now
,
I
was
never
so
call'd
in
my
life
as
thou
call'st
me
.
Thou
maist
be
asham'd
on't
:
this
'tis
to
let
thy
Prentises
have
their
swing
,
and
lye
out
at
nights
thus
.
Shoo.
Sweet
Pigsnie
,
let
me
intreat
thy
patience
:
Alas
poore
youth
,
we
must
needs
helpe
him
.
Why
I
commend
him
that
he
shoots
at
the
fairest
marke
:
What
an
excellent
show
an
Emperours
Daughter
will
make
in
a
Shooemakers
shop
!
Wife
.
Shee'le
spin
a
faire
thred
I
warrant
you
:
How
will
he
maintaine
her
troe
yee
?
Cris.
Shee
knew
my
fortunes
e're
she
married
me
,
And
now
your selves
shall
know
them
:
I
and
my
Brother
that
thus
have
served
you
like
Prentises
,
Are
Princes
both
,
and
Sonnes
to
Alured
,
late
King
of
Brittaine
.
Sho.
How
!
my
right
Worshipfull
Prentise
!
Stands
bare
Wife
.
Ha
,
is
he
a
Kings
sonne
Husband
?
Shoo.
Make
courtsie
to
your
man
you
whore
.
Cris.
The
Emperour
Maximinus
slew
my
Father
,
And
put
the
Queene
my
Mother
into
Prison
:
What
meane
you
gentle
Master
,
pray
be
covered
.
Shoo.
No
by
my
faith
Sir
,
You
are
a
better
man
than
the
Master
of
my
Company
.
Cris.
And
seeing
all
my
hopes
lye
dead
save
in
her selfe
,
I
lov'd
,
reveal'd
my selfe
,
and
married
her
;
Yet
I
intreate
you
both
—
Nay
gentle
Master
,
I
am
your
Prentice
still
,
pray
stand
not
bare
.
Shoo.
Well
,
well
,
for
this
once
I
will
boy
;
now
you
old
Gigumbob
,
you
ne're
had
two
such
men
to
man
you
.
Wife
.
Nay
truely
Husband
,
I
ever
thought
they
were
some
worshipfull
mans
sonnes
,
they
were
such
mannerly
boyes
still
.
Cris.
All
I
intreate
of
you
,
is
some
advice
To
get
my
faire
Leodice
from
Court
,
and
then
some
secret
place
Where
she
might
be
in
safety
till
her
sweet
delivery
,
And
then
Ile
dare
misfortune
.
Wife
.
Blessing
of
thy
heart
,
I
like
thee
well
th'ast
such
a
care
of
thy
Wife
:
therefore
if
thou
couldst
but
steale
her
from
the
Court
,
and
bring
her
hither
,
she
should
lye
in
,
and
be
brought
to
bed
at
my
house
.
and
no body
know
it
I
warrant
you
.
Shoo.
I
marry
Tib-tattle
basket
,
how
should
we
doe
that
wench
?
Cris.
That's
all
my
care
indeed
,
to
steale
her
thence
.
Wife
.
Come
,
come
,
leave
it
to
me
Boy
,
I
see
,
a
womans
wit
must
helpe
at
a
pinch
still
Boy
:
Marke
this
device
,
and
if
you
like
it
,
doe
it
,
and
thus
it
is
:
Soone
at
night
thou
shalt
hire
some
friend
to
fire
a
Tree
upon
the
Coast
at
Dover
,
as
neare
the
Beacons
as
can
be
possible
,
by
which
meanes
the
men
that
watch
the
other
Beacons
,
seeing
that
in
flames
,
and
supposing
some
Enemy
landed
,
will
presently
fire
all
the
rest
,
and
so
on
a
sudden
set
both
Court
,
City
,
and
Countrey
,
and
all
in
an
uproare
,
in
which
time
if
you
and
shee
cannot
bestirre
your
stumps
,
and
run
both
away
,
would
you
were
whipt
yfaith
.
Shoo.
An
excellent
pate
to
trouble
the
whole
Commonalty
;
The
plot
is
good
yfaith
Boy
.
Cris.
I
like
it
well
,
and
will
acquaint
the
Princesse
with
it
.
Enter
Barnaby
and
Raph
crying
.
Bar.
Raph.
O
Master
and
Dame
,
Dame
and
Master
;
O
lamentable
day
!
now
or
never
.
Shoo
How
now
Knaves
,
tole
one
Bell
at
once
,
and
leave
jangling
.
Bar.
O
pittifull
Master
,
intolerable
Dame
,
I
am
the
fore-bell
,
and
h'as
rung
all
in
many
a
time
and
often
with
you
Dame
:
but
now
I
must
ring
out
mine
owne
eyes
in
teares
,
in
dolour
,
and
most
dolefull
knells
:
My
fellow
Hugh
is
taken
,
And
condemn'd
like
a
Christian
.
Wife
.
O
horrible
!
Shoo.
Peace
Bag-pipe
:
my
man
Hugh
condemn'd
,
How
comes
that
?
Bar.
O
Master
,
your
man
Hugh
is
not
the
man
you
took
him
for
;
not
plaine
Hugh
,
but
Sir
Hugh
,
a
Knight
of
fame
.
Shoo.
How
?
a
Knight
of
the
Worshipfull
Company
of
the
Cordwainers
?
Bar.
Nay
,
by
St.
Davie
,
hee's
more
,
hee's
a
Welch
Prince
,
And
sonne
to
the
King
of
Powes
in
South
Wales
,
Though
he
but
a
Shooemaker
here
.
Shoo.
Passion
of
me
,
what
a
brood
of
Princes
have
I
brought
up
!
And
why
is
my
right
honourable
Servant
to
be
put
to
death
?
Bar.
As
we
were
going
to
see
the
Christians
,
he
spied
his
old
Love
Queene
Winifred
amongst
them
,
and
at
the
very
sight
hee
look't
as
greene
as
a
leeke
,
and
so
rusht
in
amongst
them
;
tooke
the
Lady
by
the
Lilly-white
hand
,
rail'd
on
the
Roman
gods
,
defied
the
Emperour
,
and
swore
he
would
dye
if
she
did
.
Shoo.
Is
there
no
helpe
to
save
him
?
Raph.
None
in
the
World
,
except
he
leave
to
be
a
Christian
.
Bar.
'Tis
true
Sir
,
all
the
Sergeants
and
Officers
that
came
to
arest
him
,
pittying
his
case
,
perswaded
him
to
be
no
good
Christian
,
as
they
were
:
then
there
was
a
Broker
said
hee
would
lay
his
soule
to
pawne
,
he
could
not
prosper
if
he
were
a
Christian
;
nay
,
the
Iaylor
cries
out
on
him
,
and
sayes
,
if
he
continue
a
Christian
,
hee'le
use
him
like
a
Dog
.
Shoo.
Alacke
the
day
;
I'me
sorry
for
my
honourable
boote
hailer
:
Goe
and
comfort
him
;
Ile
see
him
anon
tell
him
.
Bar.
Nay
,
stay
sweete
Master
,
'Twas
never
seene
that
a
Shooe-maker
and
his
men
Were
base
Bassilomions
,
but
true
bonus
socius
,
Up
se
freeze
,
though
we
cannot
get
him
from
prison
,
Ile
sell
my
coate
from
my
backe
,
ere
a
Shoomaker
Shall
want
:
Let
us
shew
our selves
Cavaleeres
Or
Coblers
:
come
every
man
his
twelvepence
A
peece
to
drinke
with
him
in
prison
.
Shoo.
A
good
motion
:
boone
boyes
,
fine
knaves
;
I
like
you
well
when
you
hang
together
:
Hold
my
brave
Journey-men
,
There's
a
double
share
for
me
.
Crisp.
And
mine
with
all
my
heart
y'faith
.
Wif.
And
cause
he's
a
Knight
,
thou
shalt
have
my
shilling
too
.
Bar.
I
thanke
you
Dame
:
Nay
,
weele
never
leave
a
brother
of
our
Company
,
as
long
as
flesh
and
bones
Will
hang
together
.
Shoo.
Away
boyes
,
goe
you
before
;
Joane
jumble
breech
your
Dame
and
I
will
follow
,
Cherish
him
up
,
tell
him
he
shall
not
want
;
He
lives
not
in
the
world
could
ever
say
,
A
Shooe-maker
from
his
friend
did
flinch
away
.
Exeunt
.
Flourish
:
Enter
Maximinus
,
Bassianus
,
Lutius
,
Officers
;
Albon
and
Amphiabel
in
their
shirts
,
as
from
Torments
.
Max.
Resolve
me
yet
,
you
stubborne
Christians
,
Cannot
the
severall
tortures
which
we
doe
inflict
,
Yet
melt
the
Iron
of
your
hardned
hearts
,
To
make
you
bow
unto
our
Roman
gods
?
Speake
,
will
you
obey
our
hest
?
Amph.
None
but
the
hests
of
heaven
.
Alb.
A
thousand
deaths
have
not
the
bitter
stings
As
are
the
paines
we
have
felt
in
torturing
;
Yet
Tyrant
wee'le
endure
tenne
thousand
more
,
And
laugh
in
deaths
face
,
e're
we
our
faiths
give
o're
.
Max.
Renowned
Albon
,
on
thy
head
Ile
set
A
Crowne
of
gold
.
Alb.
To
make
me
heaven
forget
:
Never
.
Amph.
Never
.
Max.
Let
me
yet
winne
thee
foolish
man
:
Remember
what
honours
we
,
and
Dioclesian
Heapt
upon
thee
:
giving
thee
the
stile
Brittaines
Stewardship
,
The
Prince
of
Knights
,
Lord
of
Varlome
.
Alb.
And
in
thy
Rackes
,
thy
Irons
,
Gibbets
,
and
thy
Wheele
,
Doe
I
more
honour
,
and
more
comfort
feele
,
Than
all
those
painted
smoakes
by
thee
bestowed
Of
me
:
my
Countrey
may
thus
much
boast
:
Albon
Stood
firme
and
fixt
,
in
spight
of
tyrants
wrath
,
Brittaines
first
Martyr
for
the
Christian
faith
.
Max.
But
not
the
last
:
For
to
thy
scorne
Ile
adde
millions
of
Christian
flames
,
to
death
and
tortures
.
Lut.
Dispatch
these
first
.
Max.
I
will
dragge
them
hence
in
Chaines
to
Helnurst
Hill
,
three
miles
from
Verolome
,
Where
Albons
Lord
,
there
after
blowes
,
And
spightfull
buffettings
,
for
honour
of
his
Knight-hood
,
once
held
the
chiefe
,
He
shall
have
a
Knight
to
be
his
Heads-man
.
Alb.
That
stroake
shall
well
be
given
,
That
makes
roome
for
a
soule
to
flye
to
heaven
.
Max.
This
fiend
Amphiabel
,
From
whose
damn'd
Teate
he
suckt
this
poyson
,
Shall
there
be
bound
by
a
fixed
stake
,
To
which
nail'd
fast
,
the
Navell
of
his
belly
Being
opened
,
then
with
your
sword
prick
him
,
And
force
him
runne
about
like
a
wheele
,
Till
he
has
spunne
his
Guts
out
:
and
that
dispatcht
,
Saw
off
his
traiterous
head
.
Amph.
Caesar
in
greater
triumph
nere
was
led
.
Max.
Away
with
them
;
Albon's
the
first
shall
dye
:
Alb.
Thou
honour'st
me
amidst
thy
tyranny
:
come
on
dear
friend
,
Amph,
Eternity
protect
us
to
our
end
:
Fight
nobly
then
.
Albon
.
To
my
latest
breath
:
I
goe
to
a
wedding
(
friend
)
and
not
to
death
.
Max.
Goe
dragge
'em
hence
;
this
day
weele
Quaffe
the
blood
of
Christians
:
call
forth
more
:
So
perish
all
will
not
our
gods
adore
.
Enter
Hugh
,
Winifred
,
and
Shooe-makers
.
Bar.
Nay
fellow
Hugh
,
or
noble
Sir
Hugh
,
remember
'tis
not
every
mans
case
to
dye
a
Christian
;
prethee
leave
it
then
,
and
save
thy
life
;
the
Roman
gods
are
as
good
gods
as
e're
trode
on
a
shooe
of
leather
:
and
therefore
sweete
Hugh
wee
may
get
their
custome
,
and
bring
'em
to
our
shoppe
,
and
so
we
shall
be
Shooe-makers
to
the
gods
.
Hugh
.
You
trouble
me
,
I
pray
leave
.
Bar.
Leave
thee
,
not
as
long
as
thou
liv'st
I'faith
.
Max.
What
are
all
these
?
Bar.
Men
that
respect
a
Christian
no
more
than
you
doe
,
Sir
you
neede
not
feare
,
there's
not
a
good
Christian
among
us
.
Max.
Honest
fellowes
:
Backe
,
and
give
the
Prisoners
roome
.
Win.
Come
my
constant
friend
:
Noble
Sir
Hugh
at
last
farewell
joyne
hands
We
never
shall
touch
one
another
more
,
When
these
we
sever
;
thou
long
hast
Lov'd
me
;
truer
ne're
was
found
,
That
both
in
life
and
death
keepes
faith
so
sound
:
All
that
my
love
can
give
thee
for
thy
paines
Ile
marry
thee
,
but
death
must
bid
the
banes
:
Never
to
wedding
was
such
honour
given
,
Our
weding
dinner
must
be
kept
in
heaven
.
Hugh
.
At
which
Angels
shall
waite
:
Saints
be
our
guests
,
our
soules
the
wedding
couple
,
And
the
feast
joy
and
eternity
;
our
bridall
roome
The
Hall
of
heaven
,
where
hand
in
hand
weele
come
,
Martyrs
to
dance
a
measure
,
which
beginnes
Unto
the
musick
of
the
Cherubins
.
Max.
Meane
time
,
even
here
you
both
shall
dance
with
death
;
Yet
if
our
Gods
you'le
serve
,
prolong
your
breath
.
Hugh
.
'Tis
life
we
seeke
to
loose
;
Tyrant
strike
home
,
They
are
but
walls
of
clay
which
thou
beast
downe
.
Max.
Call
a
Hangman
,
flea
that
Villaine
straight
,
and
teare
that
womans
Flesh
with
burning
Pincers
.
Win.
We
both
are
ready
Sir
,
Yet
heare
me
Maximinus
:
by
all
the
Rites
Of
honour
I
conjure
thee
,
in
Law
of
woman-hood
,
Let
not
my
body
be
a
Villaines
prey
;
But
since
I
am
a
Queene
and
spotlesse
Virgin
,
Let
me
chuse
my
death
.
Max.
Because
thou
once
wert
daughter
to
a
King
Injoy
thy
wish
,
so
death
may
forth
with
strike
,
Meete
him
in
any
shape
thou
best
shall
like
.
Win.
Be
sure
it
shall
:
Be
thou
the
chiefe
mourner
at
my
funerall
.
My
earthly
love
farewell
;
thy
cheeke
Ile
kisse
,
Wee'le
meete
anon
within
the
land
of
blisse
:
Follow
my
footesteps
thou
shalt
soone
be
there
:
Courage
good
heart
,
to
dye
I
cannot
feare
.
Ile
be
the
first
,
and
teach
thee
how
to
dye
,
Leading
the
way
to
sweete
felicity
.
Come
Tyrants
lanch
my
arme
,
to
death
Ile
bleed
,
Sweete
blood
was
shed
for
me
,
and
mine
Ile
sheede
.
Max.
Dispatch
and
lanch
her
arme
,
but
save
the
blood
The
which
this
day
to
holy
Iupiter
Ile
sacrifice
.
Win.
My
dearest
friend
farewell
,
In
one
house
shortly
wee'le
for
ever
dwell
.
Hugh
.
The
storme
of
death
now
comes
,
Beare
up
brave
saile
.
Win.
I
feele
no
storme
;
but
oven
the
merriest
gaile
That
ever
life
was
driven
with
:
Oh
how
sweet
a
Dreame
me thinkes
I
now
am
in
;
Angels
doe
runne
to
meete
and
welcome
Me
unto
the
Land
of
blisse
,
Singing
I
have
spunne
a
golden
thred
Hugh
.
That
thread
of
gold
weave
still
.
Win.
I
doe
;
farewell
:
make
haste
to
meete
—
Dies
.
Hugh
.
In
faith
I
will
,
in
a
whole
Campe
of
Martyrs
;
blest
Fate
Shee's
gone
for
ever
to
an
Angels
state
.
Max.
Dispatch
him
;
and
dragge
her
body
hence
.
Hugh
.
'Tis
sister
to
the
Saints
;
oh
give
it
reverence
.
Why
doe
I
linger
here
,
my
love
being
gone
?
Bar.
A
right
Shooe-maker
,
he
loves
a
woman
.
Hugh
.
Mercifull
Tyrant
set
me
on
deaths
wings
,
That
I
may
beare
a
part
where
my
love
sings
Eternall
Hymnes
of
joy
;
blest
love
I
come
,
as
soone
As
I
can
set
forth
out
of
this
house
of
earth
and
clay
:
When
shall
this
stroake
be
given
,
That
I
may
mount
and
meete
my
love
in
heaven
?
Max.
Flea
him
alive
:
Yet
stay
,
because
you
are
so
love-sicke
,
wee'le
give
You
a
drinke
to
cure
it
:
Powre
into
a
Cup
His
sweete-hearts
blood
,
and
give
it
us
.
Hugh
.
'Tis
precious
Wine
,
holy
,
and
good
.
Max.
And
you
shall
quaffe
your
fill
:
So
,
put
in
Poyson
,
spice
it
well
;
There
drinke
thy
last
,
and
sinke
with
her
to
hell
.
Hugh
.
Oh
let
me
kisse
this
heavenly
cup
of
all
my
happinesse
:
Deare
Love
to
thy
blest
soules
eternall
goodnesse
,
I
drinke
this
health
,
fild
to
th'
brimme
:
Two
hearts
did
never
so
in
one
streame
swimme
,
As
thine
and
mine
shall
now
;
and
though
thy
blood
Be
poysond
,
this
our
loves
keepes
firme
and
good
.
My
Countrey
men
and
fellow
Shoo-makers
,
As
of
my
best
of
friends
I
take
my
leave
:
We
many
times
together
have
drunke
healths
,
But
none
like
this
:
yet
Ile
beginne
to
you
all
;
But
here
you
shall
not
pledge
me
.
Bar.
Yes
,
and
'twere
Aquavitae
we
would
pledge
thee
.
Hugh
.
The
love
which
I
so
found
in
you
,
Even
in
my
latest
houre
,
Ile
not
forget
,
But
to
you
all
beginne
my
lasting
love
,
Never
did
faire
society
of
men
more
please
me
:
you
are
a
trade
Of
fellowships
best
mixture
,
nobly
made
.
Bar.
We
are
Shooe-makers
,
and
so
.
Hugh
.
My
being
amongst
you
,
thus
shall
you
preferre
,
To
say
a
Prince
was
once
a
Shooe-maker
.
For
which
you
now
shall
raise
your
skill
aloft
,
And
be
cal'd
gentlemen
of
the
Gentle
craft
.
Bar.
Oh
noble
Sir
,
Hugh
.
Hugh
.
Could
I
give
Indian
Mines
,
they
all
were
yours
;
But
I
have
nought
to
give
,
nor
ought
to
take
,
But
this
my
farewell
;
therefore
for
my
sake
,
When
Death
has
seiz'd
my
flesh
,
Take
you
my
bones
,
which
I
bequeath
Amongst
you
to
be
buried
.
Bar.
Take
no
care
for
thy
winding
sheete
,
sweete
Hugh
,
for
never
was
gentleman
of
the
Gentle
craft
so
buryed
as
thou
shouldst
bee
,
if
thou
hadst
drunke
thy
last
.
Hugh
.
Now
trouble
me
no
more
:
Upon
this
stage
of
death
I
set
my
foote
to
all
farewell
,
Angels
shall
clap
their
wings
to
ring
my
knell
,
And
bid
me
welcome
to
the
land
of
rest
,
Where
my
immortall
love
lives
ever
blest
:
A
health
deare
soule
Ile
drinke
to
thee
:
so
,
so
,
How
soone
he
fades
,
that
now
so
fresh
did
grow
!
Flye
up
my
soule
to
heaven
,
my
sins
sinke
to
the
earth
;
Thus
doe
I
seale
my
holy
Christian
faith
.
Ralph
.
O
noble
Sir
Hugh
,
oh
lamentable
Hearing
.
Max.
Conveigh
that
other
body
hence
,
and
give
it
buriall
as
befits
her
state
:
for
this
,
bestow
It
on
these
shooemakers
,
as
he
bequeath'd
it
.
Bar.
No
Shooemakers
now
Sir
,
but
the
gentle
Craft
Shall
see
it
buried
in
state
and
pompe
.
Max.
Vse
your
owne
pleasures
;
where's
Bassianus
?
How
chanc'd
our
Daughter
,
bright
Leodice
,
Came
not
to
see
these
slaughtred
Christians
?
Bas.
Shee
keeps
her
Chamber
Sir
.
Max.
Is
she
not
well
?
let
her
be
kept
with
care
,
And
to
the
gods
of
Rome
these
Trophies
reare
.
Flourish
,
exit
Maxim.
Bar.
Well
my
Masters
,
I
could
finde
in
my
heart
to
raile
upon
this
Emperour
Mr.
Minus
,
but
that
I
doubt
hee'le
make
us
all
die
like
Christians
,
and
that
he
shall
never
doe
as
long
as
we
live
I
warrant
him
.
Raph.
Wee'le
watch
him
for
that
yfaith
.
Bar.
So
let
him
passe
then
,
and
let
us
lay
our
sinodicall
heads
together
,
to
know
what
shall
become
of
Sir
Hugh
.
Raph.
Let's
all
joyne
together
,
and
bury
him
.
Bar.
How
like
a
Christian
thou
talk'st
:
what
before
hee
be
cold
?
then
we
should
use
him
as
many
rich
heires
desire
to
use
their
fathers
:
No
,
because
he
was
a
Prince
,
and
did
such
honour
to
our
Trade
,
we'le
bury
him
like
a
Prince
and
a
Shooemaker
.
All
.
Agreed
,
agreed
.
Bar.
You
know
he
gave
us
the
name
of
the
Gentle
Craft
,
and
if
we
should
give
him
an
ill
word
now
,
'twere
a
shame
yfaith
.
Raph.
That's
true
;
how
shall
we
doe
then
to
honour
him
?
Bar.
Marry
thus
fellow-gentlemen
,
of
my
fellow
Hughs
making
,
to
requite
his
kindnesse
,
because
he
dyed
a
Christian
,
he
shall
no
more
be
call'd
Sir
Hugh
,
but
St.
Hugh
,
and
the
Saint
for
ever
of
all
the
Shooemakers
in
England
.
All
.
O
brave
,
brave
Barnaby
:
St.
George
for
England
,
And
St.
Hugh
for
the
Shooemakers
.
Bar.
An
you
be
Gentlemen
,
heare
me
:
you
know
besides
,
h'as
given
his
bones
amongst
us
.
Now
you
must
not
thinke
as
if
a
Butcher
had
given
us
a
dozen
of
maribones
to
be
pick't
.
All
.
Well
,
well
,
how
then
?
Bar.
Marry
thus
;
in
memory
of
his
gift
,
all
our
working-tooles
,
from
this
time
for
ever
,
shall
be
call'd
St.
Hughs
bones
.
All
.
Brave
,
brave
,
that
shall
stand
for
ever
yfaith
.
Raph.
I
,
but
which
of
our
tooles
shall
we
call
so
?
Bar.
Marry
even
all
fellow
Raph
,
all
the
tooles
we
worke
with
:
as
for
example
,
the
Drawer
,
Dresser
,
Wedges
,
Heele-block
,
hand
and
thumb-lethers
,
Shooe-thrids
,
Pincers
,
pricking-aule
,
and
a
rubbing-stone
,
Aule
,
Steele
,
and
Tacks
,
Shooe-haires
,
and
Stirrups
,
whetstone
,
and
stopping-sticke
,
Apron
,
and
Paring-knife
,
all
these
are
Sir
Hughs
bones
.
Now
sir
,
whatsoever
he
be
,
that
is
a
Gentleman
of
the
Gentle
Craft
,
and
has
not
all
these
at
his
fingers
ends
,
to
reckon
them
up
in
Rime
,
shall
presently
up
with
him
,
and
strapado
his
bum
.
All
.
An
everlasting
Law
renowned
Barnaby
.
Bar.
Nay
,
heare
me
sing
like
a
Swan
,
or
a
Sowter
:
Furthermore
,
if
any
Journey-man
shall
travell
without
these
tooles
,
now
call'd
St.
Hughs
bones
,
at
his
back
,
and
cannot
slash
,
cut
,
and
crack
coxcombes
,
with
brave
Sword
and
Buckler
,
long
sword
,
and
quarter-staffe
,
sound
a
Trumpet
,
or
play
o'th
Flute
,
'
or
beare
his
part
in
a
three
mans
Song
,
he
shall
forfeit
a
Gallon
of
wine
,
and
be
counted
a
Colt
as
long
as
his
shooes
are
made
of
running
lether
:
Speake
,
is't
agreed
on
?
All
.
Agreed
,
agreed
,
agreed
.
Bar.
Wee'le
take
up
the
body
then
.
Raph.
Ile
have
a
leg
of
him
.
1.
And
I
another
.
2.
And
I
another
.
3.
And
Ilo
helpe
thee
Raph
.
Bar.
With
reverence
and
with
silence
then
:
For
as
we
have
made
these
Lawes
in
remembrance
of
him
,
so
it
shall
not
be
a
misse
to
make
it
the
sweeter
,
to
reckon
up
our
tooles
,
and
put
them
in
meeter
,
and
instead
of
a
Deirge
,
I
thinke
it
fit
time
and
reason
to
reckon
Sir
Hughs
bones
in
Rime
:
The
Drawer
first
,
and
then
the
Dresser
,
Wedges
and
Heele-blocks
,
greater
and
lesser
;
Yet
tis
not
worth
two
Ganders
feathers
,
Vnlesse
you
have
the
hand
and
thumb-lethers
:
Then
comes
your
short-heeles
,
Needle
,
and
Thimble
,
With
Pincers
and
pricking
Aule
,
so
neate
and
nimble
:
Rubbing-stone
next
,
with
Aule
,
Steele
,
and
Tacks
,
Which
often
will
hold
when
the
shooe-leather
cracks
:
Then
Stirrup
,
stopping-stick
,
with
good
Sow-haires
,
Whet-stone
,
and
cutting-knife
which
sharply
pares
;
And
lastly
,
to
clap
Saint
Hughs
bones
in
An
Apron
that's
made
of
a
jolly
sheepes
skin
,
And
thus
to
all
Shooemakers
we
bid
adieu
,
With
tryumph
to
bury
the
famous
St.
Hugh
.
Exeunt
.