PYE.
As all prisons have: smells of sundry wretches,
Who, tho departed, leave their scents behind 'em.
By Gold, Captain, I am sincerely sorry for thee.

CAPTAIN.
By my troth, George, I thank thee; but pish,--what must be,
must be.

SKIRMISH.
Captain, what do you lie in for? ist great? what's your
offence?

CAPTAIN.
Faith, my offence is ordinary,--common: A High-way; and I
fear me my penalty will be ordinary and common too: a halter.

PYE.
Nay, prophecy not so ill; it shall go heard,
But I'll shift for thy life.

CAPTAIN.
Whether I live or die, thou'art an honest George. I'll tell
you--silver flowed not with me, as it had done, (for now the
tide runs to Bawds and flatterers.) I had a start out, and
by chance set upon a fat steward, thinking his purse had been
as pursey as his body; and the slave had about him but the
poor purchase of ten groats: notwithstanding, being descried,
pursued, and taken, I know the Law is so grim, in respect of
many desperate, unsettled soldiers, that I fear me I shall