SCENE II

_An obscure street in London._

_Here enters Shakebag solus._

_Shakebag._ The widow Chambly in her husband’s days I kept; And now he’s dead, she is grown so stout She will not know her old companions. I came thither, thinking to have had harbour As I was wont, And she was ready to thrust me out at doors; But whether she would or no, I got me up, And as she followed me, I spurned her down the stairs, And broke her neck, and cut her tapster’s throat, And now I am going to fling them in the Thames. I have the gold; what care I though it be known! I’ll cross the water and take sanctuary.

[_Exit._