IMAGINATION.
Well, well, that thou shalt know, ere thou go.
PITY.
O sirs, I see it cannot be amended,
You do me wrong, for I have not offended:
Remember God that is our heaven king,
For he will reward you after your deserving;
When death with his mace doth you arrest;
We all to him owe fea'ty and service,
From the ladder of life down he will thee thrust,
Then mastership may not help, nor great office.
FREEWILL.
What, death, and he were here, he should sit by thee;
Trowest thou, that he be able to strive with us three?
Nay, nay, nay.
IMAGINATION.
Well, fellows, now let us go our way;
For at Shooter's Hill we have a game to play.
HICKSCORNER.
In good faith, I will tarry no lenger space.