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CAPTAIN.

Sfoot, George, I know not what to say toot: conjure? I shall be hand ere I conjure.

PYE.

Nay, tell not me of that, Captain; you'll ne'er conjure after you're hangd, I warrant you. Look you, sir, a parlous matter, sure! First, to spread your circle upon the ground, then, with a little conjuring ceremony, as I'll have an Hackney-man's wand silvered ore a purpose for you,--then arriving in the circle, with a huge word, and a great trample, as for instance:--have you never seen a stalking- stamping Player, that will raise a tempest with his tongue, and thunder with his heels?

CAPTAIN.

O yes, yes, yes: often, often.

PYE.

Why, be like such a one, for any thing will blear the old Knight's eyes: for you must note that he'll ne'er dare to venture into the room, only perhaps peep fearfully through the Key hold, to see how the Play goes forward.

CAPTAIN.

Well, I may go about it when I will, but mark the end ont: I shall but shame my self, ifaith, George. Speak big words, and stamp and stare, and he look in at Key-hold! why, the very thought of that would make me laugh out-right, and spoil all: nay, I'll tell thee, George, when I apprehend a thing once, I am of such a laxative laughter, that if the Devil him-self stood by, I should laugh in his face.

PYE.

Puh, that's but the babe of a man, and may easily be husht; as to think upon some disaster, some sad misfortune, as the death of thy Father ithe Country!

CAPTAIN.

Sfoot, that would be the more to drive me into such an extasy, that I should ne'er lin laughing.

PYE.

Why, then, think upon going to hanging else.

CAPTAIN.

Mass, that's well remembred; now I'll do well, I warrant thee, ne'er fear me now: but how shall I do, George, for boisterous words, and horrible names?

PYE.

Puh, any fustian invocations, Captain, will serve as well as the best, so you rant them out well; or you may go to a Pothecaries shop, and take all the words from the Boxes.

CAPTAIN.

Troth, and you say true, George; there's strange words enow to raise a hundred Quack-salvers, tho they be ne'er so poor when they begin. But here lies the fear on't, how if in this false conjuration, a true Devil should pop up indeed?

PYE.

A true Devil, Captain? why there was ne'er such a one: nay, faith, he that has this place is as false a Knave as our last Church-warden.

CAPTAIN.

Then he's false enough a conscience, ifaith, George.

[The Crie at Marshalsea.]

CRIE PRISONERS.

Good Gentlemen over the way, send your relief. Good Gentlemen over the way,--Good sir Godfrey!

PYE.

He's come, he's come.

NICHOLAS.

Master, that's my Kinsman yonder in the Buff-jerkin--Kinsman, that's my Master yonder ith' Taffetie Hat--pray salute him entirely!

[They salute: and Pye-board salutes Master Edmond.]

SIR GODFREY.

Now, my friend.

PYE.

May I pertake your name, sir?

EDMOND.

My name is Master Edmond.

PYE.

Master Edmond?--are you not a Welshman, sir?

EDMOND.

A Welshman? why?

PYE.

Because Master is your Christian name, and Edmond your sir name.

EDMOND.

O no; I have more names at home: Master Edmond Plus is my full name at length.

PYE.

O, cry you mercy, sir. [Whispering]

CAPTAIN.

I understand that you are my Kinsman's good Master, and in regard of that, the best of my skill is at your service: but had you fortuned a mere stranger, and made no means to me by acquaintance, I should have utterly denied to have been the man; both by reason of the act past in Parliament against Conjurers and Witches, as also, because I would not have my Art vulgar, trite, and common.

SIR GODFREY.

I much commend your care therein, good Captain Conjurer, and that I will be sure to have it private enough, you shall doot in my Sister's house,--mine own house, I may call it, for both our charges therein are proportioned.

CAPTAIN.

Very good, sir--what may I call your loss, sir?

SIR GODFREY.

O you may call't a great loss, sir, a grievous loss, sir; as goodly a Chain of gold, tho I say it, that wore it: how sayest