[HANS the Butcher steps out of his group.]
HANS the Butcher
Hath no man seen the Piper?—Please your worships.
OTHERS
Ay, ay, so!
—Ay, where is he?
—Ho, the Piper!
JACOBUS
Piper, my good man?
HANS the Butcher
—He that charmed the rats!
OTHERS
Yes, yes,—that charmed the rats!
JACOBUS
[piously]
Why, no man knows.—
Which proves him such a random instrument
As Heaven doth sometimes send us, to our use;
Or, as I do conceive, no man at all,—
A man of air; or, I would say—delusion.
He'll come no more.
REYNARD [from the Ark] Eh?—Oh, indeed, Meaow!
JACOBUS
'Tis clearest providence. The rats are gone.
The man is gone. And there is nought to pay,
Save peaceful worship.
[Pointing to the Minster.]
REYNARD [sarcastically] Oh, indeed,—Meaow! [Sudden chorus of derisive animal noises from the Ark, delighting PEOPLE and CHILDREN.]