The Tragicall History of
Cursed be he that strucke Fryer Sandelo a blow on the pate.
Maledicat Dom.
Cursed be he that disturbeth our holy Dirge.
Maledicat Dom.
Cursed be he that took away his Holinesse wine.
Maledicat Dom.
Beat the Friers, fling fire-works among them, and Exeunt. Exeunt.
Enter Clowne and Dicke with a Cup.
Dicke.
Sirra Robin, we were best looke that your divell can answer the stealing of this same cup, for the Vintners Boy followes us at the hard heeles.
Rob.
Tis no matter, let him come; and he follow us, Ile so conjure him, as he was never conjur'd in his life, I warrant him: let me see the cup.
Enter Vintner.
Dicke.
Here 'tis. Yonder he comes: Now Robin, now or never show thy cunning.
Vint.
O, are you here? I am glad I have found you; you are a couple of fine companions: pray where's the cup you stole from the Taverne?
Rob.
How, how? we steale a cup, take heede what you say, we looke not like cup-stealers I can tell you.
Vint.
Never deny't, for I know you have it, and I'le search you.
Rob.
Search me? I and spare not: hold the cup Dicke, come, come, search me, search mee.
Vint.
Come on sirra, let me search you now.
Dick.
I, I, doe, doe, hold the cup Robin, I feare not your searching; we scorne to steale your cups I can tell you.
Vint.
Never outface me for the matter, for sure the cup is betweene you two.
Rob.
Nay there you lie; 'tis beyond us both.
