Preach. So, my beloved, this Ahab has lost his head, as it might be the froth of thin ale. I am thirsty in the flesh! Will no man be a surety for a poor preacher of the Lord at the sign of Balaam's Ass? 'Tis hard by; and I would speak a few more words of grace on this soul-stirring occasion, but my tongue is parched. Ho! every one that thirsteth, come unto me,—or I will go with you.
A Soldier. Hold thy peace; for I would fain speak. This is a great day in Israel.
Preach. Hear me, my brethren! This is a false prophet.
Sold. Smite him!
Woman. Nay, touch him an' you dare. [To the Soldier.] 'Tis Master Ephraim Bumling. I would thy head were chopped off, like the sour-faced king's this morning.
1st Art. Down with all kings!
2nd Art. No taxes!
3rd Art. We'll all be kings!
4th Art. With our heads on, though.
1st Art. Cease quarrelling, and come and play at skittles.