3 Out-l. A thousand horse and foot, a thousand pioneers,
If we get under-ground, to fetch us out again;
And every one an Axe to cut the woods down.
Lop. This is the dismalst night— [Exit.
Enter Alpho[n]so.
Alp. Where's my Nag now?
And what make I here to be hang'd? What Devil
Brought me into this danger? Is there ne'er a hole,
That I may creep in deep enough, and die quickly?
Ne'r an old ditch to choke in? I shall be taken
For their Commander now, their General,
And have a commanding Gallows set up for me
As high as a May-pole; and nasty Songs made on me,
Be printed with a Pint-pot and a Dagger.
They are all kill'd by this time: Can I pray?
Let me see that first: I have too much fear to be faithful.
Where's all my State now? I must go hunt for Daughters;
Daughters, and Damsels of the Lake, damned Daughters.
A hundred Crowns for a good tod of Hay,
Or a fine hollow Tree, that would contain me;
I hear 'em coming: I feel the nooze about me.
Enter Seberto, Curio, Out-laws, and Jaques.
Seb. Why do you fear, and fly? here are no Souldiers;
None from the King to vex ye.
1 Out-l. The Drum, the Drum, Sir.
Cur. I never saw such Pigeon-hearted people:
What Drum? what danger? who's that that shakes behind there?
Mercy upon me, Sir, why are ye fear'd thus?
Alp. Are we all kill'd, no mercy to be hoped for?
Am I not shot do you think?
Seb. You are strangely frighted,
Shot with a fiddle-stick: who's here to shoot ye?
A drum we saw indeed, a boy was beating it,
And hunting Squirrels by Moon-light.