So, so! I'm fast; I did not think I could

Have done so well behind me. How prosperous and Effectual mischief sometimes is!-[Aloud.]-Help! help!

Murder, murder, murder!

Enter CARTER and Old THORNEY.

Car. Ha! whom tolls the bell for?
Frank. Oh, oh!

Thor. Ah me!

The cause appears too soon; my child, my son, Car. Susan, girl, child! not speak to thy father! ha!

Frank. Oh lend me some assistance to o'ertake This hapless woman.

Thor. Let's o'ertake the murderers.

Speak while thou canst, anon may be too late;
I fear thou hast death's mark upon thee too.
Frank. I know them both; yet such an oath is
pass'd,

As pulls damnation up if it be broke;

I dare not name 'em: think what forced men do. Thor. Keep oath with murderers! that were a conscience

To hold the Devil in.

Frank. Nay, sir, I can describe 'em,
Shall show them as familiar as their names;
The taller of the two at this time wears

His satin doublet white, but crimson lined;
Hose of black satin, cloak of scarlet-

Thor. Warbeck,

Warbeck-do you list to this, sir?

Car. Yes, yes, I listen you; here's nothing to be heard.

Frank. The other's cloak' branch'd velvet, black; velvet lined his suit.

1 The other's cloak branch'd velvet,] i. e. with tufts, or tassels, dependent from the shoulders; somewhat like the gowns worn at present by vergers, beadles, &c.-GIFFORD.

VOL. II.-17

Thor. I have them already; Somerton, Somerton! Binal revenge, all this. Come, sir, the first work Is to pursue the murderers, when we have Remov'd these mangled bodies hence.

Car. Sir, take that carcass there, and give me this.

I will not own her now; she's none of mine.
Bob me off with a dumb show! no, I'll have life.
This is my son, too, and while there 's life in him.
"Tis half mine; take you half that silence for 't.—
When I speak I look to be spoken to:

Forgetful slut!

Thor. Alas! what grief may do now!
Look, sir, I'll take this load of sorrow with me.

[Exit with SUSAN in his arms. Car. Ay, do, and I'll have this. How do you, sir? Frank. O, very ill, sir.

Car. Yes,

I think so; but 't is well you can speak yet ;
There's no music but in sound; sound it must be.
I have not wept these twenty years before,
And that I guess was ere that girl was born;
Yet now methinks, if I but knew the way,
My heart's so full, I could weep night and day.
[Exit with FRANK.

SCENE IV.

Before Sir ARTHUR'S House.

Enter Sir ARTHUR CLARINGTON, WARBECK, and
SOMERTON.

Sir Ar. Come, gentlemen, we must all help to

grace

The nimble-footed youth of Edmonton,

That are so kind to call us up to-day

With a high morris.

Som. I could rather sleep than see them.

Sir Ar. Not well, sir?

Som. 'Faith, not ever thus leaden; yet I know no cause for 't.

War. Now am I, beyond mine own condition, highly disposed to mirth.

Sir Ar. Well, you may have a morris to help both; To strike you in a dump, and make him merry.

Enter SAWGUT, the fiddler, with the morris-dancers, &c.

Saw. Come, will you set yourselves in morrisray? the fore-bell, second-bell, tenor, and great-bell; Maid Marian for the same bell. But where's the weathercock now? the hobby-horse?

1 Cl. Is not Banks come yet? What a spite 't is ! Sir Ar. When set you forward, gentlemen?

1 Cl. We stay but for the hobby-horse, sir; all our footmen are ready.

Som. 'Tis marvel your horse should be behind your foot.

2 Cl. Yes, sir, he goes farther about; we can come in at the wicket, but the broad gate must be opened for him.

Enter CUDDY BANKS, with the hobby-horse, followed by DOG.

Sir Ar. Oh, we staid for you, sir.

Cud. Only my horse wanted a shoe, sir; but we shall make you amends ere we part.

Sir Ar. Ay? well said; make 'em drink ere they begin.

Enter Servants with beer.

Cud. A bowl, I prithee, and a liitle for my horse; he'll mount the better. Nay, give me, I must drink to him, he 'll not pledge else.-[Drinks.]-Here, Hobby,-[holds the bowl to the hobby-horse.]-I pray you: no? not drink! You see, gentlemen, we can but bring our horse to the water; he may choose whether he'll drink or no. [Drinks again.

Som. A good moral made plain by history. 1 Clown. Strike up, father Sawgut, strike up. Saw. E'en when you will, children.-[Cuddy mounts the hobby.1-Now-the best foot forward!-Endeavours to play; but the fiddle gives no sound.]-How now! not a word? I think, children, my instrument has caught cold on the sudden.

Cud. My ningle's knavery: black Tom's doing.

[Aside.

All. Why, what mean you, father Sawgut? Cud. Why, what would you have him do? you hear his fiddle is speechless.

Saw. I'll lay mine ear to my instrument, that my poor fiddle is bewitched. I play'd The Flowers in May e'en now, as sweet as a violet; now 't will not go against the hair.

Cud. Let me see, father Sawgut;-[takes the fiddle.] -say once you had a brave hobby-horse, that you were beholde to. I'll play and dance too. Ningle, away with it.-[Gives it to the Dog, who plays the morris.]

All. Ay, marry, sir!

THE DANCE.

Enter a Constable and Officers.

Con. Away with jollity! 't is too sad an hour.
Sir Arthur Clarington, your own assistance,
In the king's name, I charge for apprehension
Of these two murderers, Warbeck and Somerton.
Sir Ar. Ha! flat murderers?

Som. Ha, ha, ha! this has awaken'd my melancholy.

1 Among the properties of our old stage was "a roobe for to goe invisabel." Whatever it was, it operated as a conventional hint to our easy ancestors not to see the person who wore it. Whether the urchin who played Tom had any signal of this kind can hardly be told; but he frequently runs in and out, and bustles among the dramatis persona without being discovered by them. In the present case, however, he was probably concealed from all but Cuddy by the long trappings of the hobby-horse.-GIFFORD.

War. And struck my mirth down flat.-Murderers? Con. The accusation's flat against you, gentlemen. Sir, you may be satisfied with this. [Shows his warrant. I hope you'll quietly obey my power:

'T will make your cause the fairer.

Both. Oh, with all our hearts, sir.

Cud. There's my rival taken up for hangman's meat; Tom told me he was about a piece of villany. Mates and morris-men, you see here's no longer piping, no longer dancing; this news of murder has slain the morris. You that go the foot-way, fare ye well; I am for a gallop. Come, ningle.-[Canters off with the hobby, and DoG.]

Saw. [Strikes his fiddle, which sounds as before.] Ay nay, an my fiddle be come to himself again, I care not. I think the Devil has been abroad among us to-day; I'll keep thee out of thy fit now, if I can. [Exit with the morris-dancers.

Sir Ar. These things are full of horror, full of pity. But if this time be constant to the proof, The guilt of both these gentlemen I dare take On mine own danger! yet, howsoever, sir, Your power must be obey'd.

War. Oh, most willingly, sir,

"T is a most sweet affliction; I could not meet
A joy in the best shape with better will:
Come, fear not, sir; nor judge nor evidence
Can bind him o'er, who 's freed by conscience.
Som. Mine stands so upright to the middle zone,
It takes no shadow to 't, it goes alone.

ACT IV. SCENE I.

Edmonton.-The Street.

[Exeunt.

Enter Old BANKS, and several Countrymen. Banks. My horse this morning runs most piteously of the glanders, whose nose yesternight was as clean