SHAKEBAG

I very well Will. I thy Mother, thy sister, thy brother, or all thy kin He's dead, as if he had been condemned By and act of parliament, if once Black Will and I Swear his death, I cannot paint my valour out with words, But give me place and opportunity, Such mercy as the starven Lions When she is dry sucked of her eager young: Shows to the pray that next encounters her, On Arden so much pity would I take. Come to the purpose Michael, we hear You have a pretty love in Feuershame, Then Michael this shall be your penance, To feast us all at the Salutation, Where we will Plate our purpose thoroughly. Come Will, see thy tools be in a readiness? Is not thy Powder dank, Or will thy flint strike fire Why so can Jack of Feuershame, That sounded for a phillope on the nose: When he that gave it him hollowed in his ear. And he supposed a Cannon bullet hit him. Why that thou shalt see if he come this way, Stand close Will I hear them coming. Where is he? If he be not paid his own never trust shakebagge, Why thats the best, but see thou miss him not. Sta ̄ ding against a staule, watching Ardens continued ̄ ming, A boy let down his shop window, and broke his head. Whereupon arose a braul, and in the tumult Arden escaped us, and passed by unthought on. But forbearance is no acquittance, Another time wele do it I warrant Thee. So shalt thou purchase, Mosbie for thy friend And by his friendship gain his sisters love. Black night hath hid the pleasures of y to day. Here enters Will, Gre and Shak. And sheting darkness overhangs the earth, And with the black fold of her cloudy robe, Obscure us from the eyesight of the world, In which sweet silence such as we triumph. The laysie minutes linger on their time, Loath to give endue audit to the hour: Till in the watch our purpose be complete, And Arden sent to everlasting night. Green get you gone, and linger here about, And at some hour hence, come to us again, Where we will give you instance of his death. Why thy speech bewrayed and inly kind offeare. And favoured of a weak relenting spirit. Go forward now in that we have begun. And afterwards attempt me when thou darest. This is the door, but soft, me thinks 'tis shut. The villain Michael hath deceived us, It will not be, the white liuerd peasant is gone to bed And laughs us both to scorn. And let me never draw a sword again, Nor prosper in the twilight, cockshut light, When I would sleece the wealthy passenger, But lie and languish in a loathsome den: Hated and spit at by the goers by. And in that death may die, unpitied. If I the next time that I meet the slave, Cut not the nose from of the cowards face, And trample on it, for this villainy. He were a villain and he would not swear, I would make a peasant swear amongst his boys. That never durst say before but yea and no. To be thus slouted of a coysterel. I happily thou hast picked more in a throng. But should I brag what booties I have took, I think the overplus thats more then thine, Would mount to a greater some of money, Then either thou, or all thy kin are worth. Zounds I hate them as I hate a toad, That carry a muscado in their tongue. And scarce a hurting weapon in their hand. Arden thou hast wondrous holy luck, Did ever man escape as thou hast done. Well I'll discharge my Pistol at the sky, For by this bullet Arden might not die. I in health towards Feuershame, to shame us all O Will where art thou? I pray thee speak still, that we may meet by the found, for I shall fallen into some ditch or other, unless my feet see better then my eyes. I that I did. Nay say not so for, if it be they, they may happily lose their way as we have done And then we may chance meet with them. Help Will help, I am almost drowned. His name is black will. See how the Sun hath cleared the foggy missed, Now we have missed the mark of our intent. I for a while, but here we two will stay. And at their coming back meet with them once more, Zounds I was never so toylde in all my life, In following so slight a task as this. Zounds who injures M. Mosbie. Help Will I am hurt. Nay Zounds wele kill him. Though we be hanged at his door for our labour. Thou dost me wrong, I did as much as any. Lush you are too faint hearted, we must do it. And ther's for the ten pound in my sleeve, In South work dwells a bonny northern lass, The widow Chambley, isle to her house now, Ind if she will not give me harbour, He make booty of the quean even to her smock. Now now Will, become a precissian. Nay then lets go sleep, when huges and fears, Shall kill our courages with their fancies work, Why he begun. When we were ready to shoot, Comes my Lord Cheiny to prevent his death. Why isle warrant you shel think we dare not doit No this were a sine world for chandlers, If this weather would last, for then a man Should never dine nor sup without candle light, But sirrah Will what horses are those that passed? The widow chambly in her husbands days I kept And now he's dead, she is grown so stout She will not know her old companions, I came thither thinking to have had Harbour as I was wont And she was ready to thrust me out at doors, But whither she would or no, I God me up, And as she followed me I spurned her down the stairs, And broke her neck, and cut her tapsters throat, And now I am going to sting them in the Temes, I have the gold, what care I though it be known? I'll cross the water and take sanctuary.