Conscience. Ah gods, what wits doth reign! and yet to you unknowen,
I die the death, and soul doth sink this filthy flesh hath sowen.
Appius. I force it not; I will attempt: I stay for Claudius here;
Yet will I go to meet with him, to know what news and cheer.
Here entereth Haphazard.
Haste for a hangman in hazard of hemp:
Run for a ridduck, there is no such imp.
Claudius is knocking with hammer and stone
At Virginius’ gate, as hard as he can lay on.
By the gods, my masters, Haphazard is hardy,