and are now 'for the Lord's sake.' Sirrah, bring Barnardine hither. Master Barnardine! you must rise and be hanged. Master Barnardine! What, ho, Barnardine! A pox o' your throats! Who makes that noise there? What are you? Your friends, sir; the hangman. You must be so good, sir, to rise and be put to death. Away, you rogue, away! I am sleepy. Tell him he must awake, and that quickly too. Pray, Master Barnardine, awake till you are executed, and sleep afterwards. Go in to him, and fetch him out. He is coming, sir, he is coming; I hear his straw rustle. Is the axe upon the block, sirrah? Very ready, sir. How now, Abhorson? what's the news with you? Truly, sir, I would desire you to clap into your prayers; for, look you, the warrant's come. You rogue, I have been drinking all night; I am not fitted for 't. O, the better, sir; for he that drinks all night, and is hanged betimes in the morning, may sleep the sounder all the next day. Look you, sir; here comes your ghostly father: do we jest now, think you? Sir, induced by my charity, and hearing how hastily you are to depart, I am come to advise you, comfort you and pray with you. Friar, not I I have been drinking hard all night, and I will have more time to prepare me, or they shall beat out my brains with billets: I will not consent to die this day, that's certain. O, sir, you must: and therefore I beseech you Look forward on the journey you shall go. I swear I will not die to-day for any man's persuasion. But hear you. Not a word: if you have any thing to say to me, come to my ward; for thence will not I to-day. Unfit to live or die: O gravel heart! After him, fellows; bring him to the block. Now, sir, how do you find the prisoner? A creature unprepared, unmeet for death; And to transport him in the mind he is Were damnable. Here in the prison, father, There died this morning of a cruel fever One Ragozine, a most notorious pirate, A man of Claudio's years; his beard and head Just of his colour. What if we do omit This reprobate till he were well inclined; And satisfy the deputy with the visage Of Ragozine, more like to Claudio? O, 'tis an accident that heaven provides! Dispatch it presently; the hour