ggars so neere the doore
Of our deceased brother? whip them hence
Or bring the Mastiffe foorth [to] worry them.
They are lazie drones, 'tis pittie such should live.

1. I told you, my Lord, how we should find them; whip us! leade the way,
soveraigne, weele none of your whipping.

_Hat_. Hence with these dogs! what make they neere this house?

2. He will be eaten with rats too, he looks like a piece of cheese
alreadie.

_Hat_. You Rogues.

_Alf_. Good brother, stay your self from wrath;
Thinke on the Bishop and his odious death.

_Hat_. What odious death, I pray?

_Alf_. Eaten with Rats,
Whilest he was living, for the wrong he did
Unto the poore, the branches of our God.

_Hat_. Tis true, and therefore, call the poore againe.
Come hither, friends, I did forget my selfe.
Pray for me, ther's some silver for thy wants.

2. Now the Lord blesse you and keep your good face[169] from being
Mouse-eaten; wee came thinking wee should have some dole at the Bishops
funerall, but now this shall serve our turne, wee will pray for you
night and day.

_Hat_. Goe to the backe-gate, and you shall have dole.

_Om_. O the Lord save thee.
[_Exeunt Beggers_.

_Hat_. These Beggers pray and curse both in a breath.
Oh wherefore should we fawne upon such curres,
The mice of mankind, and the scorne of earth?

_Alf_. So said our brother.

_Hat_. And he was a Bishop,
Had read the Scripture and knew what he said.

_Alf_. But he hath bought[170] that saying with his death,
With such a loathsome and notorious death
As while the World's a World 'twill speake of _Meath_.

_Hat_. The Lord Archbishop of _Meath_, and die by Rats!

_Alf_. He did proclaime reliefe unto the poore;
Assembled them unto a private Barne
And, having lockt the doore, set it on fire,
Saying hee'de rid the countrie of such Mice;
And Mice and Rats have rid him from the World.

_Hat_. Well, Ile not hurt the poore so publikely,
But privately I'le grinde their very hearts.
Torture them living, and yet have their prayers,
And by such meanes that few or none shall know it.

_Al_. In such a course _Alfred_ would wind with you;
For though I counsail'd you to be more calme,
Twas not in pittie of their povertie
But to avoide their clamour. To give nothing
Will make them curse you: but to threaten them,
Flie in your face, and spit upon your beard.
No devill so fierce as a bread-wanting heart,
Especially being baited with ill t