2. But looke about my ragged subjects, here comes somebody.
1. O the devills; shall we aske them an almes?
2. Why not? now the rats have eaten up their brother Bishop they will be more charitable; your vocation, you slaves.
3. For the Lord sake, be pittifull to a companie of poore men.
Hatto. What cry is this? beggars so neere the doore
Of our deceased brother? whip them hence
Or bring the Mastiffe foorth [to] worry them.
They are lazie drones, 'tis pittie such should live.
1. I told you, my Lord, how we should find them; whip us! leade the way, soveraigne, weele none of your whipping.
Hat. Hence with these dogs! what make they neere this house?
2. He will be eaten with rats too, he looks like a piece of cheese alreadie.
Hat. You Rogues.
Alf. Good brother, stay your self from wrath; Thinke on the Bishop and his odious death.