All the Clowns. Why, what mean you, Father Sawgut?
Cud. Why, what would you have him do? you hear his fiddle is speechless.
Saw. I’ll lay mine ear to my instrument that my poor fiddle is bewitched. I played “The Flowers in May” e’en now, as sweet as a violet; now ’twill not go against the hair: you see I can make no more music than a beetle of a cow-turd.
Cud. Let me see, Father Sawgut [Takes the fiddle]; say once you had a brave hobby-horse that you were beholding to. I’ll play and dance too.—Ningle, away with it. [Gives it to the Dog, who plays the morris.
All the Clowns. Ay, marry, sir! [They dance.
Enter a Constable and Officers.
Con. Away with jollity! ’tis too sad an hour.—
Sir Arthur Clarington, your own assistance,
In the king’s name, I charge, for apprehension
Of these two murderers, Warbeck and Somerton.
Som. Ha, ha, ha! this has awakened my melancholy.
War. And struck my mirth down flat.—Murderers?