Act 5 — SCENE V.

Shape. Lie thou there, watchman. How the knave that's look'd for May often lurk under the officer! Invention, I applaud thee. Hear. London air, Methinks, begins to be too hot for us. Slicer. There is no longer tarrying here: let's swear Fidelity to one another, and So resolve for New England.[238] Hear. 'Tis but getting A little pigeon-hole reformed ruff—— Slicer. Forcing our beards into th' orthodox bent—— Shape. Nosing a little treason 'gainst the king, Bark something at the bishops, and we shall Be easily receiv'd. Hear. No fitter place. They are good silly people; souls that will Be cheated without trouble. One eye is Put out with zeal, th' other with ignorance; And yet they think they're eagles. Shape. We are made Just fit for that meridian. No good work's Allow'd there: faith—faith is that they call for, And we will bring it 'em. Slicer. What language speak they? Hear. English, and now and then a root or two Of Hebrew, which we'll learn of some Dutch skipper That goes along with us this voyage. Now We want but a good wind; the brethren's sighs Must fill our sails; for what Old England won't Afford, New England will. You shall hear of us By the next ship that comes for proselytes. Each soil is not the good man's country only; Nor is the lot his to be still at home: We'll claim a share, and prove that nature gave This boon, as to the good, so to the knave. [Exeunt.

Shape. We have escap'd the law, but yet do fear Something that's harder answered—your sharp ear. O, for a present sleight now to beguile That, and deceive you but of one good smile. 'Tis that must free us: th' Author dares not look For that good fortune, to be sav'd by's book. To leave this blessed soil is no great woe; Our griefs in leaving you, that make it so; For if you shall call in those beams you lent, 'Twould ev'n at home create a banishment.