nter Epidophorus and Clowne_.

_Epi_. Have any Christian soule broke from my Iayle
This night, and gone i'the dark to find out heaven?
Are any of my hated prisoners dead?

_Clown_. Dead? yes; and five more come into the world instead of one.
These Christians are like Artichoaks of _Jerusalam_; they over-runne
any ground they grow in.

_Epi_. Are they so fruitfull?

_Clown_. Fruitfull! a Hee Christian told me that amongst them the young
fellowes are such Earing rioted[173] Rascals that they will runne into
the parke of Matrimony at sixteene; are Bucks of the first head at
eighteenes and by twenty carry in some places their hornes on their
backs.

_Epi_. On their backs? What kind of Christians are they?

_Clown_. Marry, these are Christian Butchers, who when their Oxen are
flead throw their skinnes on their shoulders.

_Epi_. I thought they had beene Cuckolds.

_Clown_. Amongst them? no; there's no woman, that's a true Christian,
will horne her husband. There dyed to night no lesse than six and a
halfe in our Iayle.

_Epi_. How? six and a halfe?

_Clown_. One was a girle of thirteene, with child.

_Epi_. Thy tidings fats me.

_Clown_. You may have one or two of 'em drest to your Dinner to make
you more fat.

_Epi_. Unhallowed slave! let a _Jew_ eate Pork, when
I but touch a Christian.

_Clown_. You are not of my dyet: Would I had a young Loyne of Porke to
my Supper, and two Loynes of a pretty sweate Christian after Supper.

_Epi_. Would thou mightst eate and choake.

_Clown_. Never at such meate; it goes downe without chawing.

_Epi_. We have a taske in hand, to kill a Serpent
Which spits her poyson in our kingdomes face.
And that we speake not of (?); lives still
That Witch _Victoria_, wife to _Bellizarius_?
Is Death afraid to touch the Hagge? does hunger
Tremble to gnaw her flesh off, dry up her blood
And make her eate her selfe in Curses, ha?

_Clown_. Ha? your mouth gapes as if you would eate me. The King
commanded she should be laden with Irons,--I have laid two load upon
her; then to pop her into the Dungeon,--I thrust her downe as deepe as
I could; then to give her no meate,--alas my cheekes cry out, I have
meate little enough for my selfe. Three days and three nights has her
Cupboard had no victuals in it; I saw no lesse than Fifty sixe Mice
runne out of the hole she lies in, and not a crumme of bread or bit of
cheese amongst them.

_Epi_. 'Tis the better.

_Clown_. I heard her one mo