_ Mercy, good colonel.
_Gril._ Run with your nose to earth;
Run, blood-hound, run, and scent out royal murder.--
You second rogue, but equal to the first,
Plunder, go hang,--nay, take your tackling with you,
For these shall hold you fast,--your slaves shall hang you.
To the mid region in the sun:
Plunder! Begone, vipers, asps, and adders!
[_Exeunt Sheriffs and People._
_Enter_ MALICORN.
Ha! but here comes a fiend, that soars above;
A prince o'the air, that sets the mud a moving.
_Mal._ Colonel, a word.
_Gril._ I hold no speech with villains.
_Mal._ But, sir, it may concern your fame and safety.
_Gril._ No matter; I had rather die traduced,
Than live by such a villain's help as thine.
_Mal._ Hate then the traitor, but yet love the treason.
_Gril._ Why, are you not a villain?
_Mal._ 'Tis confessed.
_Gril._ Then, in the name of all thy brother-devils,
What wouldst thou have with me?
_Mal._ I know you're honest;
Therefore it is my business to disturb you.
_Gril._ 'Fore God, I'll beat thee, if thou urge me farther.
_Mal._ Why, though you should, yet, if you hear me after,
The pleasure I shall take in your vexation,
Will heal my bruises.
_Gril._ Wert thou definite rogue,
I'faith, I think, that I should give thee hearing;
But such a boundless villainy as thine
Admits no patience.
Pages:
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68