University of Virginia Library

Actus Tertius.

The Argument of the third Act.

Hind and his Comrades disguising themselves in Devils habits, terrific the Country people, and rob an Alderman of the City of York.
Enter Hind, Latro, Furbo, Grammario, habited like Devils.
Hind,
Twere well for the great Grandees of the earth
(My fellow Furies) were there no worse Feinds
In pitchie Barathrum then we: Oh how
The Bores and Bumpkins of this Shire do dread us
No less then twelve already are run mad.

Latro,
Me thinks I like my transmutation well,
Only my tail is too, too troublesom—

Gram.
Fronti nulla Fides
Mistagogus, What mean these prodigies?
Where is your vice or vertues habites now?
For sustine pro nunc doth bend his brow.

Fur.
You (Parson) now are in your native weeds,
Black best becomes your swarthy function
Whose Doctrine (for the most part) damns more souls
Then Lucifer by all his stratagems.

Hind,
Oh, our Scout comes merrily.

Spolario whooping and hallowing within.
Enter Spolario.
Spol.
A prize, a prize, a prize—

Hind.
The news?

Spol.
The Indies falley toward us;
An Alderman of York quite gilded o're,
His servants and his horses groan with gold,
Are journeying this way.

Hind.
Couch close, my doughty devils,
Lets seize upon them with as winged hast
They all go out, and return laden with treasure.
As real Demons at the hour of death
Hurrie a vicious soul to Tartarus.

Hind.
Who would not be a Devil for an hour,
To be a man of money twelve moneths after—?

Lat.
The Alderman (poor wretch) begg'd for his soul;
His innate guilt, fear of assur'd damnation
Made him forget petitioning for his pelf.
Quoth he, I smel sulphur, and reaking brimstone,
Soot, stinking soot: Oh hell, how hot art thou!

Gram,
Siulto um plena sunt omnia.
An asse in's foot-cloth; 'tis no sin to gull him;
He I thank heaven that his own chain did not choak him,
And praise the devil for's deliverance:
He'l soon recover all by his collusions,
Abatements, stoppels, inhibitions.
Heavie pac'd jade, dull pated jobbernoul,
Quick in delays, checking with vain controul
Fair Justice course, vile necessary evil,
Smooth seeming saint, yet damn'd incarnate Devil.

Hind.
Well said my man of art, and mystick science:
I know this Alderman, and his Lawyers case;
I fee'd him once, and he cudgeld my case,
For which I vow'd revenge, and have perfotm'd it.
Now ev'ry one resume his pristine form;
they put off their disguises, and are in other habits,
Our next scence lies in Kent; thither lets hie.
Me thinks I feel a civil war within me,
He speaks this aside to himself.
Egging me on for to proceed from this,
And get the substance of celestial blisse;
My soul oft cals his Parliament of sense,
But still the guilty have preheminence:
For my souls better part so feeble is,
So cold and dead is my Sinderisis,
That shadows by odd chance sometimes are got;
But oh! the substance is respected not.
Come let's away.

Exeunt.