AMIN. _O Domine_! what mean these knaves, To lead me thus with bills and glaves? O, what example would it be To all my pupils for to see, To tread their steps all after me, If for some fault I hanged be; Somewhat surely I shall mar, If you bring me to the bar. But peace; betake thee to thy wits, For yonder Justice Reason sits. JUS. Sir Dab, Sir Dab, here's one accuseth you, To give him poison, being ill-employ'd: Speak, how in this case you can clear yourself. AMIN. _Hei mihi_! what should I say? the poison given I deny; He took it perforce from my hands, and, _Domine_, why not? I got it of a gentleman; he most freely gave it, As he knew me; my meaning was only to have it.[24] Y. ART. 'Tis true, I took it from this man perforce, And snatch'd it from his hand by rude constraint, Which proves him in this act not culpable. JUS. Ay, but who sold the poison unto him? That must be likewise known; speak, schoolmaster. AMIN. A man _verbosus_, that was a fine _generosus_; He was a great guller, his name I take to be Fuller; See where he stands, that unto my hands convey'd a powder; And, like a knave, sent her to her grave, obscurely to shroud her. JUS. Lay hands on him; are you a poison-seller? Bring him before us: sirrah, what say you? Sold you a poison to this honest man? FUL. I sold no poison, but I gave him one To kill his rats? JUS. Ha, ha! I smell a rat. You sold him poison then to kill his rats? The word to kill argues a murd'rous mind; And you are brought in compass of the murder So set him by, we will not hear him speak: That Arthur, Fuller, and the schoolmaster, Shall by the judges be examined. ANS. Sir, if my friend may not speak for himself, Yet let me his proceedings justify. JUS. What's he that will a murther justify? Lay hands on him, lay hands on him, I say; For justifiers are all accessories, And accessories have deserved to die. Away with him! we will not hear him speak; They all shall to the High Commissioners. _Enter_ MISTRESS ARTHUR. MRS ART. Nay, stay them, stay them yet a little while! I bring a warrant to the contrary; And I will please all parties presently. Y. ART. I think my wife's ghost haunts me to my death; Wretch that I was, to shorten her life's breath! O. ART. Whom do I see, my son's wife? O. LUS. What, my daughter? JUS. Is it not Mistress Arthur that we see, That long since buried we suppos'd to be? MRS ART. This man's condemn'd for pois'ning of his wife; His poison'd wife yet lives, and I am she; And therefore justly I release his bands: This man, for suff'ring him these drugs to take, Is likewise bound, release him for my sake: This gentleman that first the poison gave, And this his friend, to be releas'd I crave: Murther there cannot be where none is kill'd; Her blood is sav'd, whom you suppos'd was spill'd. Father-in-law, I give you here your son, The act's to do which you suppos'd was done. And, father, now joy in your daughter's life, Whom heaven hath still kept to be Arthur's wife.