Vice and his wicked though jolly companions, having
wholly failed to overcome the hero, Mankind, decide to call to their
assistance no less a person than the great Devil himself; and
accordingly they summon him with a "Walsingham wystyle." Immediately
he roars in the dressing-room, and shouts:

I come, with my legs under me!

There is a flash of powder, and an explosion of fireworks, while the
eager spectators crane their necks to view the entrance of this
"abhomynabull" personage. But nothing appears; and in the expectant
silence that follows the actors calmly announce a collection of money,
facetiously making the appearance of the Devil dependent on the
liberality of the audience:

_New Gyse._ Now ghostly to our purpose, worshipful sovereigns,
We intend to gather money, if it please your negligence.
For a man with a head that of great omnipotence--

_Nowadays_ [_interrupting_]. Keep your tale, in goodness, I
pray you, good brother!

[_Addressing the audience, and pointing towards the
dressing-room, where the Devil roars again._]

He is a worshipful man, sirs, saving your reverence.
He loveth no groats, nor pence, or two-pence;
Give us red royals, if ye will see his abominable presence.

_New Gyse._ Not so! Ye that may not pay the one, pay the other.

And with such phrases as "God bless you, master," "Ye will not say
nay," "Let us go by," "Do them all pay," "Well mote ye fare," they
pass through the audience gathering their groats, pence, and twopence;
after which they remount the stage, fetch in the Devil, and continue
their play without further interruption.

[Illustration: AN INN-YARD

The famous White Hart, in Southwark. The ground-plan shows the
arrangement of a carriers' inn with the stabling below; the guest
rooms were on the upper floors.]

In the smaller towns the itinerant players might, through a letter of
recommendation from their noble patron, or through the good-will of
some local dignitary, secure the use of the town-hall, of the
schoolhouse, or even of the village church. In such buildings, of
course, they could give their performances more advantageously, for
they could place money-takers at the doors, and exact adequate payment
from all who entered. In the great city of London, however, the
players were necessarily forced to make use almost entirely of public
inn-yards--an arrangement which, we may well believe, they found far