look here, I ha brought thee a Circle ready charactered and all.

Cap. 'Sfoot, George, art in thy right Wits, doft know what thou fayft? why doft talk to a Captain a conjuring? didft thou ever hear of a Captain conjure in thy Life? doft call't a Circle? 'tis too wide a thing, methinks; had it been a leffer Circle, then I knew what to have done.

Pye. Why every Fool knows that, Captain; nay then I'll not cog with you, Captain, if you'll stay and hang the next Selfions you may.

Capt. No, by my Faith, George, come, come, let's to conjuring.

Pye. But if you look to be released, as my Wits have took pain to work it, and all means wrought to farther it, befides to put Crowns in your Purfe, to make you a Man of better hopes, and whereas before you were a Captain or poor Soldier, to make you now a Commander of rich Fools, which is truly the only beft purchace Peace can allow you, fafer than High-ways, Heath, or Cony-groves, and yet a far bet ter Booty; for your greatest Thieves are never hang'd, never hang'd; for why? they're wife, and cheat within Doors; and we geld Fools of more Mony in one Night, than your falfe-tail'd Gelding will purchafe in a Twelve-Months running, which confirms the old Beldams faying, He's wifeft, that keeps himself warmeft, that is, he that robs by a good

Fire.

Capt. Well opened i'faith, George, thou haft pull'd that faying out of the Husk.

Pye. Captain Idle, 'tis no time now to delude or delay, the old Knight will be here fuddenly, I'll perfect you, dire& you, tell you the trick on't: 'tis nothing.

Capt. 'Sfoot, George, I know not what to fay to't, conjure? I fhall be hang'd e'er I conjure.

Pye. Nay, tell not me of that, Captain, you'll ne'er conjure after you're hang'd, I warrant you; look you, Sir, a parlous Matter, fure, firft to fpread your Circle upon the Ground, then with a little conjuring Ceremony, as I'll have an Hackney-man's Wand filver'd o'er a purpose for you, then arriving in the Circle, with a huge Word, and a great Trample, as for inftance have you never feen a ftalking, ftamping

ftamping Player, that will raise a tempeft with his Tongue, and Thunder with his Heels?

Capt. O yes, yes, yes; often, often.

Pye. Why be like fuch a one? for any thing will blear the old Knight's Eyes; for you muft note, that He'll ne'er dare to venture into the Room, only perhaps peep fearfully through the Key-hole, to fee how the Play goes forward.

Capt. Well, I may go about it when I will, but mark the end on't, I fhall but fhame my felf i'faith, George, speak big words, and ftamp and ftare, and he look in at Key-hole, why the very thought of that would make me laugh outright, and fpoil all; nay I'll tell thee, George, when I apprehend a thing once, I am of fuch a laxative Laughter, that if the Devil himself stood by, I fhould laugh in his Face.

Pye. Puh, that's but the babe of a Man, and may eafily be hufh'd, as to think upon fome difafter, fome fad Misfortune, as the Death of thy Father i'th' Country.

Capt. 'Sfoot, that would be the more to drive me into fuch an ecftafie, that I fhould ne'er lin laughing else. Pye. Why then think upon going to hanging.

Capt. Mals that's well remembered, now I'll do well, I warrant thee, ne'er fear me now; but how fhall I do, George, for boisterous Words, and horrible Names?

Pye. Puh, any fuftian Invocations, Captain, will ferve as well as the best, so you rant them out well, or you may go to a Pothecary's Shop, and take all the words from the Boxes.

Capt. Troth, and you fay true, George, there's ftrange words enow to raise a hundred Quack-falvers, though they be ne'er fo poor when they begin? but here lyes the fear on't, how if in this falfe Conjuration, a true Devil should pop up indeed.

Pye. A true Devil, Captain? why there was ne'er fuch a one, nay faith he that has this place, is as falfe a Knave as our laft Church-warden.

Capt. Then he's falfe enough a Confcience i'faith George.

The

The Cry at Marshalfea. Enter Sir Godfrey, Mr. Edmond, and Nicholas.

Cry Prisoners. Good Gentlemen over the way, fend your

relief:

Good Gentlemen over the way,Good, Sir Godfrey? Pye. He's come, he's come.

Nich. Mafter, that's my Kinsman yonder in the BuffJerkin Kinfman, that's my Mafter yonder i'th Taffaty Hat-pray falute him intirely."

[They falute; and Pye-boord falutes Mafter Edmond. Sir God. Now my Friend.

Pye. May I partake your Name, Sir?

Edm. My Name is Master Edmond.

Pye. Mafter Edmond, are you not a Welshman, Sir?
Edm. A Welshman? why?

Pye. Becaufe Master is your Chriften Name, and Edmond your Sir-name.

Edm. O no: I have more names at home, Mafter Edmond Plus is my full Name at length.

[Whispering

Pye. O cry you mercy, Sir? Capt. I understand that you are my Kinfman's good Mafter, and in regard of that, the best of my Skill is at your Service; but had you fortun'd a meer Stranger, and made no means to me by acquaintance, I fhould have utterly denied to have been the Man; both by reason of the A& of Parliament against Conjurers and Witches, as alfo, becaufe I would not have my Art vulgar, trite, and com

mon.

Sir God. I much commend your care there, good Captain Conjurer, and that I will be fure to have it private enough, you shall do't in my Sifter's Houfe,----mine own House I may call it, for both our charges therein are proportion'd.

Capt. Very good, Sir,--what may I call your lofs, Sir? Sir God. O you may call't a great Lofs, a grievous Lofs, Sir, as goodly a Chain of Gold, though I fay it, that wore it; how fay't thou, Nicholas?

Nich. O'twas as delicious a Chain of Gold, Kinfman, you know

Sir God. You know, did you know't, Captain?

Capt.

I

Capt. Truft a Fool with fecrets?Sir, he may fay I know; his meaning is, becaufe my Art is such, that by it I may gather a knowledge of all Things

Sir God. Ay, very true.
Capt. A pox of all Fools

the excufe ftuck upon my Tongue like Ship-pitch upon a Mariner's Gown, not to come off in hafte-ber-lady, Knight, to lofe fuch a fair Chain of Gold, were a foul Lofs; Well, I can put you in this good comfort on't, if it be between Heav'n and Earth, Knight, I'll ha't for you.

Sir God. A wonderful Conjurer, O I, 'tis between Heav'n and Earth, I warrant you, it cannot go out of the Realm, I know 'tis fomewhere about the Earth.

Capt. Ay, nigher the Earth than thou wot'st on.

Sir God. For firft, my Chain was rich, and no rich thing fhall enter into Heav'n, you know.

Nich. And as for the Devil, Mafter, he has no need on't, for you know he has a great Chain of his own.

Sir God. Thou fay'ft true, Nicholas, but he has put off that now, that lyes by him.

Capt. Faith, Knight, in few words, I prefume fo much upon the Power of my Art, that I could warrant your Chain again.

Sir God. O dainty Captain!

Capt. Marry, it will coft me much fweat, I were better go to fixteen Hot-houses.

Sir God. Ay, good Man, I warrant thee.

Capt. Befide great Vexation of Kidney and Liver.

Nich. O, 'twill tickle you hereabouts, Coufin, becaufe you have not been us'd to't.

Sir God. No? have you not been us'd to't, Captain?

Capt. Plague of all Fools ftill;-indeed, Knight, I have not us❜d it a good while, and therefore will strain me fo much the more, you know.

Sir God. O it wil', it will.

Capt. What plunges he puts me to? Were not this Knight a Fool, I had been twice fpoil'd now; that Captain's worse than accurft that has an Afs to his Kinfman, 'sfoot, I fear he will drivel't out before I come to't. Now, Sir,to come to the point indeed,you fee I ftick here in the jaw of the Marfhalfea, and cannot do't.

S

Sir God. Tut, tut, I know thy meaning, thou wouldst fay thou'rt a Prisoner, I tell thee thou'rt none.

Capt. How, none? why is not this the Marfbalfea?

Sir God. Will't hear me fpeak? I heard of thy rare Con juring:

My Chain was loft, I fweat for thy Release,

As thou fhalt do the like at home for me:

Keeper.

Keep. Sir.

Enter Keeper.

Sir God. Speak, is not this Man free?

Keep. Yes, at his Pleasure, Sir, the Fees difcharg'd.
Sir God. Go, go, I'll discharge them, I.

Keep. I thank your Worship.

[Exit Keeper. Capt. Now, truft me, you're a dear Knight; kindness unexpected! O there's nothing to a free Gentleman,

I will conjure for you, Sir, 'till Froth come through my Buff-Jerkin.

Sir God. Nay, then thou shalt not pass with fo little a Bounty, for at the first fight of my Chain again,forty five Angels fhall appear unto thee.

Capt. Twill be a glorious fhow, i'faith, Knight, a very fine fhow; but are all thefe of your own Houfe? are you fure of that, Sir?

Sir God. Ay, ay; no, no; what's he yonder talking with my wild Nephew, pray Heav'n he give him good Counsel. Capt. Who, he? he's a rare Friend of mine, an admirable Fellow, Knight, the fineft Fortune-teller.

Sir God. O! 'tis he indeed, that came to my Lady Sifter, and foretold the lofs of my Chain; I am not angry with him now, for I fee 'twas my Fortune to lofe it: By your leave, Mr. Fortune-teller, I had a glimpse of you at home, at my Sifter's the Widow's, there you prophefied of the lofs of a Chain:-fimply, though I ftand here, I was he that loft it.

Pye. Was it you, Sir?

Edm. A my troth, Nuncle, he's the rareft Fellow, has told me my Fortune fo right; I find it fo right to my na

ture.

Sir God. What is't? God fend it a good one.

Edm.