ROBIN GOODFELLOW. 
A pox of the scholar!

PLOD-ALL. 
Nay, hark you:  I sent you vorty shillings, and you shall have the cheese
I promised you too.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW. 
A plague of the vorty shillings, and the cheese too!

PETER PLOD-ALL. 
Hear you, will you give me the powder you told me of?

ROBIN GOODFELLOW. 
How you vex me!  Powder, quotha? zounds, I have been powdered.

PLOD-ALL. 
Son, I doubt he will prove a crafty knave, and cosen us of our money. 
We’ll go to Master Justice, and complain on him, and get him whipped out
o’ the country for a coneycatcher.

PETER PLOD-ALL. 
Ay, or have his ears nailed to the pillory.  Come, let’s go.

[Exeunt PLOD-ALL and his son.

Enter CHURMS.

CHURMS.
Fellow Robin, what news? how goes the world?

ROBIN GOODFELLOW. 
Faith, the world goes, I cannot tell how.  How sped you with your wench?

CHURMS.
I would the wench were at the devil!  A plague upon’t, I never say my
prayers; and that makes me have such ill-luck.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW. 
I think the scholar be hunted with some demi-devil.

CHURMS.
Why, didst thou fray him?

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.  Fray him? a vengeance on’t! all our shifting knavery’s known; we are counted very vagrants.  Zounds, I am afraid of every officer for whipping.

CHURMS.
We are horribly haunted:  our behaviour is so beastly, that we are grown
loathsome; our craft gets us nought but knocks.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW. 
What course shall we take now?

CHURMS.
Faith, I cannot tell:  let’s e’en run our country; for here’s no staying
for us.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW. 
Faith, agreed:  let’s go into some place where we are not known, and
there set up the art of knavery with the second edition.

[Exeunt.

Enter GRIPE solus.

GRIPE.  Every one tells me I look better than I was wont:  my heart’s lightened, and my spirits are revived.  Why, methinks I am e’en young again.  It joys my heart that this same peevish girl, my daughter, will be ruled at the last yet; but I shall never be able to make Master Churms amends for the great pains he hath taken.

    Enter NURSE.

NURSE. 
Master, now out upon’s.  Well-a-day! we are all undone.

GRIPE. 
Undone! what sudden accident hath chanced?  Speak! what’s the matter?

NURSE. 
Alas! that ever I was born!  My mistress and Master Churms are run away
together.

GRIPE. 
’Tis not possible; ne’er tell me:  I dare trust Master Churms with a
greater matter than that.

NURSE. 
Faith, you must trust him, whether you will or no; for he’s gone.

    Enter WILL CRICKET.

WILL CRICKET.  Master Gripe, I was coming to desire that I might have your absence at my wedding; for I hear say you are very liberal grown o’ late.  For I spake with three or four of your debtors this morning, that ought you hundred pounds a piece; and they told me that you sent Master Churms to them, and took of some ten pounds, and of some twenty, and delivered them their bonds, and bad them pay the rest when they were able.