University of Virginia Library

Scena. 5.

The Hangman, with a greate many ropes abought his necke.
The wynd is yl, blowes no mans gaine, for cold I neede not care,
Here is nyne and twenty sutes of apparrell for my share:
And some berlady very good, for so standeth the case,
As neyther gentelman, nor other Lord, Promos sheweth Grace.
But I maruell much poore slaues, that they are hanged so soone,
They were wont, to staye a day or two, now scarce an after noone:
All the better for the hangman, I pardons dreaded sore,
Would cutters saue, whose clothes are good, I neuer feard the poore:
Let mee see, I must be dapper in this my facultie,
Heare are new ropes, how are my knots, I faith syr slippery.
At fast or loose, with my Giptian, I meane to haue a cast:
Tenne to one I read his fortune by the Marymas fast,

Serg.
A way, what a stur is this, to see men goe to hanging?

Han.
Hark, god bwy ye, I must begone, the prisners are a cōming.

Exit.