I’d laugh at that; I would thou didst but dare
To lay thy fingers on me; I’d not spare
To hack thy carcass till my sword was broken,
I’d make thee eat the words which thou hast spoken;
All men should warning take by thy transgression,
How they molested men of my profession.
My service to the State is so well known,
That should I but complain, they’d quickly own
My public grievances; and give me right
To cut your ears, before to-morrow night.
DEATH.
Well said, indeed! but bootless all, for I
Am well acquainted with thy villany;
I know thy office, and thy trade is such,
Thy service little, and thy gains are much:
Thy brags are many; but ’tis vain to swagger,
And think to fight me with thy gilded dagger:
As I abhor thy person, place, and threat,
So now I’ll bring thee to the judgment-seat.
EXCISEMAN.
The judgment-seat! I must confess that word
Doth cut my heart, like any sharpened sword:
What! come t’ account! methinks the dreadful sound
Of every word doth make a mortal wound,
Which sticks not only in my outward skin,
But penetrates my very soul within.
’Twas least of all my thoughts that ever Death
Would once attempt to stop excisemen’s breath.
But since ’tis so, that now I do perceive
You are in earnest, then I must relieve
Myself another way: come, we’ll be friends;
If I have wrongèd thee, I’ll make th’ amends.
Let’s join together; I’ll pass my word this night
Shall yield us grub, before the morning light.
Or otherwise (to mitigate my sorrow),
Stay here, I’ll bring you gold enough to-morrow.
To-morrow’s gold I will not have; and thou
Shalt have no gold upon to-morrow: now
My final writ shall to th’ execution have thee,
All earthly treasure cannot help or save thee.
EXCISEMAN.
Then woe is me! ah! how was I befooled!
I thought that gold (which answereth all things) could
Have stood my friend at any time to bail me!
But grief grows great, and now my trust doth fail me.
Oh! that my conscience were but clear within,
Which now is rackèd with my former sin;
With horror I behold my secret stealing,
My bribes, oppression, and my graceless dealing;
My office-sins, which I had clean forgotten,
Will gnaw my soul when all my bones are rotten:
I must confess it, very grief doth force me,
Dead or alive, both God and man doth curse me.
Let all Excisemen hereby warning take,
To shun their practice for their conscience sake.