d, at length she likewise died,
And for her good deeds went unto the devil:
But, hell not wont to harbour such a guest,
Her fellow-fiends do daily make complaint
Unto grim Pluto and his lady queen
Of her unruly misbehaviour;
Entreating that a passport might be drawn
For her to wander till the day of doom
On earth again, to vex the minds of men,
And swore she was the fittest fiend in hell
To drive men to desperation.
To this intent her passport straight was drawn,
And in a whirlwind forth of hell she came:
O'er hills she hurls, and scours along the plains;
The trees flew up by th'roots, the earth did quake for fear;
The houses tumble down; she plays the devil and all:
At length, not finding any one so fit
To effect her devilish charge as I,
She comes to me, as to her only child,
And me her instrument on earth she made:
And by her means I learn'd that devilish trade.

SOPHOS.
O monstrous villain!

FORTUNATUS.
But tell me, what's thy course of life,
And how thou shift'st for maintenance in the world?

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
Faith, sir, I am in a manner a promoter,
Or (more fitly term'd) a promoting knave;
I creep into the presence of great men,
And, under colour of their friendships,
Effect such wonders in the world,
That babes will curse me that are yet unborn.
Of the best men I raise a common fame,
And honest women rob of their good name:
Thus daily tumbling in comes all my thrift;
That I get best, is got but by a shift:
But the chief course of all my life
Is to set discord betwixt man and wife.

FORTUNATUS.
Out upon thee, cannibal! [_He beats him_.
Dost thou think thou shalt ever come to heaven?

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
I little hope for heav'n or heavenly bliss:
But if in hell doth any place remain
Of more esteem than is another room,
I hope, as guerdon for my just desert,
To have it for my detestable acts.

FORTUNATUS.
Were't not thy tongue condemns thy guilty soul,
I could not think that on this living earth
Did breathe a villain more audacious.
Go, get thee gone, and come not in my walk; [_Beats him_.
For, if thou dost, thou com'st unto thy woe.

ROBIN GOODFELLOW.
The devil himself was never conjur'd so.
[_Exit_ ROBIN.

SOPHOS.
Sure, he's no man, but an incarnate devil,
Whose ugly shape bewrays his monstrous mind.

FORTUNATUS.
And if he be a devil, I am sure he's gone:
But Churms the lawyer will be here anon,
And with him comes my sister Lelia;
'Tis he I a