able gentleman upon the
stage, possibly slightly the worse for liquor, seeing that his first
words are those of one on a ship at sea. They may, however, indicate
merely a seafaring man, for he has been a great traveller in his time,
'in France, Ireland, and in Spain, Portingal, Sevile, also in Almaine,'
and many places more, even as far as 'the land of Rumbelow, three mile
out of hell'. He is acquainted with the names of many vessels, of which
'the _Anne_ of Fowey, the _Star_ of Saltash, with the _Jesus_ of
Plymouth' are but a few. With something of a chuckle he adds that a
fleet of these ships bound for Ireland with a crowded company of all the
godly persons of England--'piteous people, that be of sin destroyers',
'mourners for sin, with lamentation', and 'good rich men that helpeth
folk out of prison'--has been wrecked on a quicksand and the whole
company drowned. Next he has an ill-sounding report of his own last
voyage to give. When that is finished Imagination proposes an
adjournment for pleasures more active than conversation, where purses
may be had for the asking.

Every man bear his dagger naked in his hand,
And if we meet a true man, make him stand,
Or else that he bear a stripe;
If that he struggle, and make any work,
Lightly strike him to the heart,
And throw him into Thames quite.

This suggestion meets with the approval of Freewill, who, however, takes
the opportunity to ask after Imagination's father in such unmannerly
terms as at once to rouse his friend's quick temper. In a moment a
quarrel is assured, nor does Hick Scorner's attempted mediation produce
any other reward than a shrewd blow on the head. At this precise
instant, however, old Pity, who has remained unnoticed, and who is
unwarned by the fate of Hick Scorner, pushes forward with an idea of
intervention. As might have been foreseen, the three rascals promptly
unite in rounding upon him. They insult him, they threaten him, they
raise malicious lying charges against him, and finally they clap him in
irons and leave him--Imagination being the ringleader throughout. Left
alone once more Pity sings a lament over the wickedness of the times,
whereof the doleful refrain is 'Worse was it never'. A ray of light in
his affliction comes with the return of Contemplation and Perseverance,
who, releasing him, send him off to fetch his persecutors back. Fortune
is on their side, for scarcely has Pity gone when Freewill enters by
h