Page:Miscellaneous Plays 1.pdf/85

Rh

And will not question thy high dignity, Softly; here's money for thee. (Giving him money.)

Silver pieces! He! he! he! he! hast thou got more of them?

Nay, thou art greedy; answer first my question; Tell me at which of all these gloomy doors I needs must knock to find out the chief jailor. Thou look'st like some fetch-carry to the prisoners; Dost understand me?

Ay, there's the place, go knock at yonder door.

This door is close nail'd up, and cannot open.

No, thou art wrong; it is the door hard by, Knock a little louder.

A plague upon't! there is no one within.