_Ja._ What a Devil have ye done, Pilgrim? or what mischief Have you conspir'd, that he should rage and rave thus? Have you kill'd his Father, or his Mother? or strangled any of his kindred? _Lop._ Has he no Sisters? have you not been bouncing About their belly-pieces? _Jaq._ Why should that be dangerous, Or any way deserve death? is it not natural? Bar us the _Christian_ liberty of women, And build us up with brick, take away our free-stone. _1 Out-l._ Because thou art holier than he, upon my conscience He does not envy thee: that's not his quarrel; For, look you, that might be compounded without prayers. _Lop._ Nor that thou seemst an honester man: for here We have no trading with such Tinsel-stuff; To be an excellent thief, is all we aim at. Wilt thou take a spit and stride, and see if thou canst outrun us? _Ped._ I scorn to shift his fury, keep your obedience; For though your government admit no president, Keep your selves carefull in't. _Jaq._ Thou wilt be hang'd then. _Ped._ I cannot die with fewer faults upon me. _2 Out-l._ 'Tis ten to one he will shoot him: for the Devil's in him If he hang him himself. _Lop._ He has too proud a nature: He will compel some one. _Jaq._ I am confident. _Lop._ And so are all I think. _Ped._ Be not molested, If I must die, let it not trouble you; It stirs not me: it is the end I was born for. Only this honest office I desire ye, (If there be courtesie in men of your breed) To see me buried; not to let his fury Expose my body to the open violence Of beasts, and fowls: so far I urge humanity. _Enter_ Roderigo, Alinda. _Jaq._ He shall not deny us that: we'l see ye under ground, And give ye a volly of as good cups of Sack, For that's our Discipline. _Lop._ He comes again, As high in rage as ever; the boy with him. _1 Out-l._ Will he compel the child? _Lop._ He is bent to do it, And must have some body. _Rod._ If thou lov'st me do it: Love me, or love me not, I say thou shalt do it: Stare not, nor stagger, Sirrah; if ye deny me, Do you see this Rogue? _Alin._ What would ye have me do Sir? Heavens goodness bless me. _Rod._ Do? why hang a Rascal, That would hang me. _Alin._ I am a boy, and weak, Sir. _Rod._ Thou art strong enough to tie him to a Bough, And turn him off: come, thou shalt be my Jewel, And I'le allow thee horse, and all thy pleasures, And twenty gallant things: I'le teach thee arms too; Make thee mine heir. _Alin._ Let me inherit death first. _Rod._ Make me not angry, Sirrah. _Alin._ Which is the man, Sir? I'le pluck up the best heart I can yet. _Rod._ Fear not, It is my will: That in the Pilgrims coat there, That Devil in the Saints skin. _Alin._ Guard me goodness.