Bartholmew fayre : a comedie, acted in the yeare, 1614 by the Lady Elizabeths seruants, and then dedicated to King Iames, of most blessed memorie ; The diuell is an asse : a comedie acted in the yeare, 1616, by His Maiesties seruants ; The staple of newes : a comedie acted in the yeare, 1625, by His Maiesties seruants by the author, Beniamin Iohnson.

BARTHOLMEVV FAYRE. (Book 1)

ACT. I. SCENE. I.

LITTLE-VVIT. To him VVIN.

A Pretty conceit, and worth the finding! I ha' such lucke to spinne out these fine things still, and like a Silke-worme, out of my selfe. Her's Master Bartholomew Cokes, of Harrow o'th hill, i'th County of Middlesex, Esquire, takes forth his Licence, to marry Mistresse Grace Wel-borne of the said place and County: and when do's hee take it foorth? to day! the foure and twentieth of August! Bartholmew day! Bartholmew vpon Bartholmew! there's the de∣uice! who would haue mark'd such a leap-frogge chance now? A very lesse then Ames-ace, on two Dice! well, goe thy wayes Iohn Little-wit, Proctor Iohn Little-wit: One o' the pretty wits o' Pauls, the Little wit of London (so thou art call'd) and some thing beside. When a quirk, or a quiblin do's scape thee, and thou dost not watch, and apprehend it, and bring it afore the Constable of conceit: (there now, I speake quib too) let'hem carry thee out o' the Arch∣deacons Court, into his Kitchin, and make a Iack of thee, in stead of a Iohn. (There I am againe la!) Win, Good morrow, Win. I marry Win! Now you looke finely indeed, Win! this Cap do's conuince! youl'd not ha•• worne it, VVin, nor ha' had it veluet, but a rough countrey Beauer, with a copper-band, like the Conney-skinne woman of Budge-row? Sweete VVin, let me kisse it! And. her fine high shooes, like the Spanish Lady! Good VVin, goe a litle I would faine see thee pace, pretty VVin! By this fine Cap, I could neuer leaue kissing on't.

WIN.

Come, indeede la, you are such a foole, still!

LITT.

No, but halfe a one, Win, you are the tother halfe: man and wife make one foole, Win. (Good!) Is there the Proctor, or Doctor indeed, i'the Diocesse, that euer had the fortune to win him such a Win! (There I am againe!) I doe feele conceits comming vpon mee, more then I am able to turne tongue too. A poxe o these pretenders, to wit! your Three Cranes, Miter, and Mermaid men! Not a corne of true salt, nor a graine of right mustard amongst them all. They may stand for places or so, againe the next Wit fall, and pay two pence in a quart more for their Canary, then other men. But gi' mee the man, can start vp a Iustice of Wit out of six-shillings beare, and giue the law to all the Poets, and Poet-suc∣kers i' Towne, because they are the Players Gossips? 'Slid, other men haue wiues as fine as the Players, and as well drest. Come hither, Win.

ACT. I. SCENE. IJ.

WIN-WIFE. LITTLEVVIT. WIN.

WHy, how now Master Little-wit! measuring of lips? or molding of kisses? which is it?

LITT.

Troth I am a little taken with my Wins dressing here! Do'st not fine Master Win-wife? How doe you apprehend, Sir? Shee would not ha' worne this habit. I challenge all Cheapside, to shew such another: Morefields, Pimlic•• path, or the Exchange, in a sommer euening, with a Lace to boot as this has. Deare Win, let Master Win-wife kisse you. Hee comes a wooing to our mo∣ther Win, and may be our father perhaps, Win. There's no harme in him, Win.

WIN-W.

None i'the earth, Master Little-wit.

LITT.

I enuy no man, my delicates, Sir.

WIN-W.

Alas, you ha' the garden where they grow still! A wife heere with a Strawbery-breath, Chery-lips, Apricot-cheekes, and a soft veluet head, like a Melicotion.

LITT.

Good y'faith! now dulnesse vpon mee, that I had not that before him, that I should not light on't, as well as he! Veluet head!

WIN-W.

But my taste, Master Little-wit, tends to fruict of a later kinde: the sober Matron, your wiues mother.

LITT.

I! wee know you are a Suitor, Sir. Win, and I both, wish you well: by this Licence here, would you had her, that your two names were as fast in it, as here are a couple. Win would faine haue a fine young father i' law, with a fether: that her mother

might hood it, and chaine it, with Mistris Ouer-doo. But, you doe not take the right course, Master Win-wife.

WIN-W.

No? Master Litle-wit, why?

LIT.

You are not madde enough.

WIN-W.

How? Is madnesse a right course?

LIT.

I say nothing, but I winke vpon Win. You haue a friend, one (Master Quarlous) comes here some times?

WIN-W.

Why? he makes no loue to her, do's he?

LIT.

Not a tokenworth that euer I saw, I assure you, But—

WIN-W.

What?

LIT.

He is the more Mad-cap o'the two. You doe not appre∣hend mee.

WIN.

You haue a hot coale i'your mouth, now, you cannot hold.

LIT.

Let mee out with it, deare Win.

WIN.

I'll tell him my selfe.

LIT.

Doe, and take all the thanks, and much do good thy pret∣ty heart, Win.

WIN.

Sir, my mother has had her natiuity-water cast lately by the Cunning men in Cow••lane, and they ha' told her her for∣tune, and doe ensure her, shee shall neuer haue happy houre; vn∣lesse shee marry within this sen'night, and when it is, it must be a Madde-man, they say.

LIT.

I, but it must be a Gentle-man Mad-man.

WIN.

Yes, so the tother man of More-fields sayes.

WIN-W.

But do's shee beleeue 'hem?

LIT.

Yes, and ha's beene at Bedlem twice since, euery day, to enquire if any Gentleman be there, or to come there, mad!

WIN-W.

Why, this is a confederacy, a meere piece of pra∣ctice vpon her, by these Impostors?

LIT.

I tell her so; or else say I, that they meane some young. Madcap-Gentleman (for the diuell can equiuocate, as well as a Shop-keeper) and therefore would I aduise you, to be a little mad∣der, then Master Quarlous, hereafter.

WIN.

Where is shee? stirring yet?

LIT.

Stirring! Yes, and studying an old Elder, come from Banbury, a Suitor that puts in heere at meale-tyde, to praise the painefull brethren, or pray that the sweet singers may be restor'd; Sayes a grace as long as his breath lasts him! Some time the spirit is so strong with him, it gets quite out of him, and then my mo∣ther, or Win, are faine to fetch it againe with Malmesey, or Aqua coelestis.

WIN.

Yes indeed, we haue such a tedious life with him for his dyet, and his clothes too, he breaks his buttons, and cracks seames at euery saying he sobs out.

IOH.

He cannot abide my Vocation, he sayes.

WIN.

No, he told my mother, a Proctor was a claw of the Beast,

and that she had little lesse then committed abomination in marry∣ing me so as she ha's done.

IOH.

Euery line (he sayes) that a Proctor writes, when it comes to be read in the Bishops Court, is a long blacke hayre, kemb'd out of the tayle of Anti-Christ.

WIN-W.

When came this Proselyte?

IOH.

Some three dayes since.

ACT. I. SCENE. IIJ.

QVARLOVS, IOHN, WIN, WIN-VVIFE.

O Sir, ha' you tane soyle, here? it's well, a man may reach you, after 3. houres running, yet! what an vnmercifull companion art thou, to quit thy lodging, at such vngentle manly houres? None but a scatterd couey of Fidiers, or one of these Rag-rakers in dung-hills, or some Marrow-bone man at most, would haue beene vp, when thou wert gone abroad, by all description. I pray thee what aylest thou, thou canst not sleepe? hast thou Thornes i'thy eye-lids, or Thistles i'thy bed.

WIN-W.

I cannot tell: It seemes you had neither i'your feet; that tooke this paine to finde me.

QVAR.

No, and I had, all the Lime-hounds o'the City should haue drawne after you, by the sent rather, M^r Iohn Little-wit! God saue you, Sir. 'Twas a hot night with some of vs, last night, Iohn: shal we pluck a hayre o'the same Wolfe, to day, Proctor Iohn?

IOH.

Doe you remember Master Quarlous, what wee discourst on, last night?

QVAR.

Not I, Iohn: nothing that I eyther discourse or doe, at those times I forfeit all to forgetfulnesse.

IOH.

No? not concerning Win, looke you: there shee is, and drest as I told you she should be: harke you Sir, had you forgot?

QVAR.

By this head, I'le beware how I keepe you company, Iohn, when I drunke, and you haue this dangerous memory! that's certaine.

IOH.

Why Sir?

QVAR.

Why? we were all a little stain'd last night, sprinckled with a cup or two, and I agreed with Proctor Iohn heere, to come and doe somewhat with Win (I know not what 'twas) to day; and he puts mee in minde on't, now; hee sayes hee was comming to fetch me: before Truth, if you haue that fearefull quality, Iohn, to remember, when you are sober, Iohn, what you promise drunke, Iohn; I shall take heed of you, Iohn. For this once, I am content to

winke at you, where's your wife? come hither Win. (He kisseth her.

WIN.

Why, Iohn! doe you see this, Iohn? looke you! helpe me, Iohn.

IOH.

O Win, fie, what do you meane, Win! Be womanly, Win; make an outcry to your mother, Win? Master Quarlous is an ho∣nest Gentleman, and our worshipfull good friend, Win: and he is Master Winwifes friends, too: And Master Win-wife comes a Suitor to your mother Win; as I told you before, Win, and may perhaps, be our Father, Win, they'll do you no harme, Win, they are both our worshipfull good friends. Master Quarlous! you must know M^r. Quarlous, Win; you must not quarrell with Master Quarlous, VVin.

QVAR.

No, wee'll kisse againe and fall in.

IOH.

Yes, doe good Win.

WIN.

Y'faith you are a foole, Iohn.

IOH.

A Foole-Iohn she calls me, doe you marke that, Gentlemen? pretty littlewit of veluet! a foole-Iohn!

QVAR.

She may call you an Apple-Iohn, if you vse this.

WIN-W.

Pray thee forbeare, for my respect somewhat.

QVAR.

Hoy-day! how respectiue you are become o'the sud∣den! I feare this family will turne you reformed too, pray you come about againe. Because she is in possibility to be your daugh∣ter in law, and may aske you blessing hereafter, when she courts it to Totnam to eat creame. Well, I will forbeare, Sir, but i'faith, would thou wouldst leaue thy exercise of widdow-hunting once! this drawing after an old reuerend Smocke by the splay-foote: There cannot be an ancient Tripe or Trillibub i'the Towne, but thou art straight nosing it, and 'tis a fine occupation thou'lt confine thy selfe to, when thou ha'st got one; scrubbing a piece of Buffe, as if thou hadst the perpetuity of Pannyer-alley to stinke in; or perhaps, worse, currying a carkasse, that thou hast bound thy selfe to aliue. I'll besworne, some of them, (that thou art, or hast beene a Suitor to) are so old, as no chast or marryed pleasure can euer become 'hem: the honest Instrument of procreation, has (forty yeeres since) left to belong to 'hem, thou must visit 'hem, as thou wouldst doe a Tombe, with a Torch, or three hand-fulls of Lincke, flaming hot, and so thou maist hap to make 'hem feele thee, and after, come to inherit according to thy inches. A sweet course for a man to waste the brand of life for, to be still ••aking himselfe a fortune in an old womans embers; we shall ha' thee after thou hast beene but a moneth marryed to one of 'hem, looke like the quartane ague, and the black Iaundise met in a face, and walke as if thou had'st bor∣row'd legges of a Spinner, and voyce of a Cricket. I would endure to heare fifteene Sermons aweeke for her, and such course, and lowd one's, as some of'hem must be; I would een desire of Fate, I might dwell in a drumme, and take in my sustenance, with an old broken Tobacco-pipe and a Straw. Dost thou euer thinke to

bring thine eares or stomack, to the patience of a drie grace, as long as thy Tablecloth? and droan'd out by thy sonne, here, (that might be thy father;) till all the meat o'thy board has forgot, it was that day i'the Kitchin? Or to brooke the noise made, in a question of Predestination, by the good labourers and painefull eaters, assem∣bled together, put to 'hem by the Matron, your Spouse; who mo∣derates with a cup of wine, euer and anone, and a Sentence out of Knoxe between? or the perpetuall spitting, before, and after a sober drawne exhortation of six houres, whose better part was the hum-ha∣hum? Or to heare prayers groan'd out, ouer thy iron-chests, as if they were charmes to breake 'hem? And all this for the hope of two Apostle-spoones, to suffer! and a cup to eate a cawdle in! For that will be thy legacy. She'll ha' conuey'd her state, safe enough from thee, an' she be a right widdow.

WIN.

Alasse, I am quite off that sent now.

QVAR.

How so?

WINW.

Put off by a Brother of Banbury, one, that, they say, is come heere, and gouernes all, already.

QVAR.

What doe you call him? I knew diuers of those Ban∣burians when I was in Oxford.

WIN-W.

Master Little-wit can tell vs.

IOH.

Sir! good VVin, goe in, and if Master Bartholmew Cokes- his man come for the Licence: (the little old fellow) let him speake with me; what say you, Gentlemen?

WIN-W.

What call you the Reuerend Elder? you told me of? your Banbury-man.

IOH.

Rabbi Busy, Sir, he is more then an Elder, he is a Prophet, Sir.

QVAR.

O, I know him! a Baker, is he not?

IOH.

Hee was a Baker, Sir, but hee do's dreame now, and see visions, hee has giuen ouer his Trade.

QVAR.

I remember that too: out of a scruple hee tooke, that (in spic'd conscience) those Cakes hee made, were seru'd to Bri∣dales, May-poles, Morrisses, and such prophane feasts and meetings; his Christen-name is Zeale-of-the-land.

IOH.

Yes, Sir, Zeale-of-the-land Busye.

WIN-W.

How, what a name's there!

IOH.

O, they haue all such names, Sir; he was Witnesse, for Win, here, (they will not be call'd God-fathers) and nam'd her VVinne-the-fight, you thought her name had beene VVinnifred, did you not?

WIN-W.

I did indeed.

IOH.

Hee would ha' thought himselfe a starke Reprobate, if it had.

QVAR.

I, for there was a Blew-starch-woman o'the name, at the same time. A notable hypocriticall vermine it is; I know him. One that stands vpon his face, more then his faith, at all times;

Euer in seditious motion, and reprouing for vaine-glory: of a most lunatique conscience, and splene, and affects the violence of Singularity in all he do's: (He has vndone a Grocer here, in New-gate-market, that broke with him, trusted him with Currans, as errant a Zeale as he, that's by the way: by his profession, hee will euer be i'the state of Innocence, though; and child-hood; de∣rides all Antiquity; defies any other Learning, then Inspiration; and what discretion soeuer, yeeres should afford him, it is all preuen∣ted in his Originall ignorance; ha' not to doe with him: for hee is a fellow of a most arrogant, and inuincible dulnesse, I assure you; who is this?

ACT. I. SCEENE. IIIJ.

WASPE. IOHN. WIN-WIFE. QVARLOVS.

BY your leaue, Gentlemen, with all my heart to you: and god you good morrow; M^r Little-wit, my businesse is to you. Is this Licence ready?

IOH.

Heere, I ha' it for you, in my hand, Master Humphrey.

WAS.

That's well, nay, neuer open, or read it to me, it's labour in vaine, you know. I am no Clearke, I scorne to be sau'd by my booke, i'faith I'll hang first; fold it vp o'your word and gi' it mee; what must you ha' for't?

IOH.

We'll talke of that anon, Master Humphrey.

WAS.

Now, or not at all, good M^r Proctor, I am for no anon's, I assure you.

IOH.

Sweet VVin, bid Salomon send mee the little blacke boxe within, in my study.

WAS.

I, quickly, good Mistresse, I pray you: for I haue both egges o'the Spit, and yron i'the fire, say, what you must haue, good M^r Little-wit.

IOH.

Why, you know the price, M^r Numps.

WAS.

I know? I know nothing. I, what tell you mee of know∣ing? (now I am in hast) Sir, I do not know, and I will not know, and I scorne to know, and yet, (now I think on't) I will, and do know, as well as another; you must haue a Marke for your thing here, and eight pence for the boxe; I could ha' sau'd two pence i'that, an' I had bought it my selfe, but heere's foureteene shillings for you. Good Lord! how long your little wife staies! pray God, Salomon, your Clerke, be not looking i'the wrong boxe, M^r Proctor.

IOH.

Good i'faith! no, I warrant you, Salomon is wiser then so, Sir.

WAS.

Fie, fie, fie, by your leaue Master Little-wit, this is scuruy, idle, foolish and abominable, with all my heart; I doe not like it.

WIN-W.

Doe you heare? Iacke Little-wit, what businesse do's thy pretty head thinke, this fellow may haue, that he keepes such a coyle with?

QVAR.

More then buying of ginger-bread i'the Cloyster, here, (for that wee allow him) or a guilt pouch i'the Fayre?

IOH.

Master Quarlous, doe not mistake him: he is his Masters both-hands, I assure you.

QVAR.

What? to pull on his boots, a mornings, or his stoc∣kings, do's hee?

IOH.

Sir, if you haue a minde to mocke him, mocke him softly, and looke to'ther way: for if hee apprehend you flout him, once, he will flie at you presently. A terrible testie old fellow, and his name is Waspe too.

QVAR.

Pretty Insect! make much on him.

WAS.

A plag••e o'this boxe, and the poxe too, and on him that made it, and her that went for't, and all that should ha' sought it, sent it, or brought it! doe you see, Sir?

IOH.

Nay, good M^r Waspe.

WAS.

Good Master Hornet, turd i'your teeth, hold you your tongue; doe not I know you? your father was a Pothecary, and sold glisters, more then hee gaue, I wusse: and turd i'your little wiues teeth too (heere she come••) 'twill make her spit as fine as she is, for all her veluet-custerd on her head, Sir.

IOH.

O! be ciuill Master Numpes.

WAS.

Why, say I haue a humour not to be ciuill; how then? who shall compell me? you?

IOH.

Here is the boxe, now.

WAS.

Why a pox o'your boxe, once againe: let your little wife stale in it, and she will. Sir, I would haue you to vnderstand, and these Gentlemen too, if they please—

WIN-W.

With all our hearts. Sir.

WAS.

That I haue a charge. Gentlemen.

IOH.

They doe apprehend, Sir.

WAS.

Pardon me, Sir, neither they nor you, can apprehend mee, yet. (you are an Asse) I haue a young Master, hee is now vpon his making and marring; the whole care of his well doing, is now mine. His foolish scholemasters haue done nothing, but runne vp and downe the Countrey with him, to beg puddings, and cake-bread, of his tennants, and almost spoyled him, he has learn'd nothing, but to sing catches, and repeat rattle bladder rattle, and O, Madge. I dare not let him walke alone, for feare of lear∣ning of vile tunes, which hee will sing at supper, and in the sermon-times! if hee meete but a Carman i'the streete, and I finde him not talke to keepe him off on him, hee will whistle him, and all his tunes ouer, at night in his sleepe! he has a head full

of Bees! I am faine now (for this little time I am absent) to leaue him in charge with a Gentlewoman; 'Tis true, shee is A Iustice of Peace his wife, and a Gentlewoman o'the hood, and his na∣turall sister▪ But what may happen, vnder a womans gouernment, there's the doubt. Gentlemen, you doe not know him: hee is ano∣ther manner of peece then you think for! but nineteen yeere old, and yet hee is taller then either of you, by the head, God blesse him.

QVAR.

Well, mee thinkes, this is a fine fellow!

WIN-W.

He has made his Master a finer by this description, I should thinke.

QVAR.

'Faith, much about one, it's crosse and pile, whether for a new farthing.

WAS.

I'll tell you Gentlemen—

IOH.

Will't please you drinke, Master VVaspe?

WAS.

Why, I ha' not talk't so long to be drie, Sir, you see no dust or cobwebs come out o'my mouth: doe you? you'ld ha' me gone, would you?

IOH.

No, but you were in hast e'en now, M^r Numpes.

WAS.

What an' I were? so I am still, and yet I will stay too; meddle you with your match, your Win, there, she has as little wit, as her husband it seemes: I haue others to talke to.

IOH.

She's my match indeede, and as little wit as I, Good!

WAS.

We ha' bin but a day and a halfe in towne, Gentlemen, 'tis true, and yester day i'the afternoone, we walk'd London, to shew the City to the Gentlewoman, he shall marry, Mistresse Grace; but, afore I will endure such another halfe day, with him, I'll be drawne with a good Gib-cat, through the great pond at home, as his vncle Hodge was! why, we could not meet that heathen thing, all day, but ••ayd him: he would name you all the Signes ouer, as hee went, aloud: and where hee spi'd a Parrat, or a Monkey, there hee was pitch'd, with all the littl-long-coats about him, male and female; no getting him away! I thought he would ha' runne madde o'the blacke boy in Bucklers-bury, that takes the scury, roguy tobacco, there.

IOH.

You say true, Master Numpes: there's such a one indeed.

WAS.

It's no matter, whether there be, or no, what's that to you?

QVAR.

He will not allow of Iohn's reading at any hand,

ACT. I. SCENE. V.

COKES. Mistris OVER-DOO. WASPE. GRACE. QVARLOVS. WIN-WIFE. IOHN. WIN.

O Numpes! are you here Numpes? looke where I am, Numpes! and Mistris Grace, too! nay, doe not looke angerly, Numpes: my Sister is heere, and all, I doe not come without her.

WAS.

What, the mischiefe, doe you come with her? or shee with you?

COK.

We came all to seeke you, Numpes.

WAS.

To seeke mee? why, did you all thinke I was lost? or runne away with your foureteene shillings worth of small ware, here? or that I had chang'd it i'the Fayre, for hobby-horses? S'pretious—to seeke me!

OVER.

Nay, good M^r Numpes, doe you shew discretion, though he bee exorbitant, (as M^r Ouer-doo saies,) and't be but for conseruation of the peace.

WAS.

Mary gip, goody she-Iustice, Mistris French-hood! turd i'your teeth; and turd i'your French-hoods teeth, too, to doe you seruice, doe you see? must you quote your Adam to me! you thinke, you are Madam Regent still, Mistris Ouer-doo; when I am in place? no such matter, I assure you, your raigne is out, when I am in, Dame.

OVER.

I am content to be in abeyance, Sir, and be gouern'd by you; so should hee too, if he did well; but 'twill be expected, you should also gouerne your passions.

WAS.

Will't so forsooth? good Lord! how sharpe you are! with being at Bet'lem yesterday? VVhetston has set an edge vpon you, has hee?

OVER.

Nay, if you know not what belongs to your dignity: I doe, yet, to mine.

WAS.

Very well, then.

COK.

Is this the Licence, Numpes? for Loues sake, let me see't. I neuer saw a Licence.

WAS.

Did you not so? why, you shall not see't, then.

COK.

An' you loue mee, good Numpes.

WAS.

Sir, I loue you, and yet I do not loue you, i'these foole∣ries, set your heart at rest; there's nothing in't, but hard words: and what would you see't for?

COK.

I would see the length and the breadth on't, that's all; and I will see't now, so I will.

WAS.

You sha' not see it, heere.

COK.

Then I'll see't at home, and I'll looke vpo' the case heere.

WAS.

Why, doe so, a man must giue way to him a little in

trifles: Gentlemen. These are errors, diseases of youth: which he will mend, when he comes to iudgement, and knowledge of matters. I pray you conceiue so, and I thanke you. And I pray you pardon him, and I thanke you againe.

QVAR.

Well, this dry-nurse, I say still, is a delicate man.

WIN-W.

And I, am, for the Cosset, his charge! Did you euer see a fellowes face more accuse him for an Asse?

QVAR.

Accuse him? it confesses him one without accusing. What pitty 'tis yonder wench should marry such a Cokes?

WIN-W.

'Tis true.

QVAR.

Shee seemes to be discreete, and as sober as shee is handsome.

WIN-W.

I, and if you marke her, what a restrain'd scorne she casts vpon all his behauiour, and speeches?

COK.

Well, Numpes, I am now for another piece of businesse more, the Fayre, Numpes, and then—

WAS.

Blesse me! deliuer me, helpe, hold mee! the Fayre!

COK.

Nay, neuer fidge vp and downe, Numpes, and vexe it selfe. I am resolute Bartholmew, in this; Il'e make no suite on't to you; 'twas all the end of my iourney, indeed, to shew Mistris Grace my Fayre: I call't my Fayre, because of Bartholmew: you know my name is Bartholmew, and Bartholmew Fayre.

IOH.

That was mine afore, Gentlemen: this morning. I had that i'faith, vpon his Licence, beleeue me, there he comes, after me.

QVAR.

Come, Iohn, this ambitious wit of yours, (I am afraid) will doe you no good i'the end.

IOH.

No? why Sir?

QVAR.

You grow so insolent with it, and ouerdoing, Iohn: that if you looke not to it, and tie it vp, it will bring you to some ob∣scure place in time, and there'twill leaue you.

WIN-W.

Doe not trust it too much, Iohn, be more sparing, and vse it, but now and then; a wit is a dangerous thing, in this age; doe not ouer buy it.

IOH.

Thinke you so, Gentlemen? I'll take heed on't, hereafter.

WIN.

Yes, doe Iohn.

COK.

A prety little soule, this same Mistris Little-wit! would I might marry her.

GRA.

So would I, or any body else, so I might scape you,

COK.

Numps, I will see it, Numpes, 'tis decreed: neuer be me∣lancholy for the matter.

WAS.

Why, see it, Sir, see it, doe see it! who hinders you? why doe you not goe see it? 'Slid see it.

COK.

The Fayre, Numps, the Fayre.

WAS.

Would the Fayre and all the Drums, and Rattles in't, were i'your belly for mee: they are already i'your braine: he that had the meanes to trauell you head, now, should meet finer sights then any are i'the Fayre; and make a finer voyage on't; to see it

all hung with cockle-shels, pebbles, fine wheat-strawes, and here and there a chicken's feather, and a cob-web.

QVAR.

Goodfaith, hee lookes, me thinkes an' you marke him, like one that were made to catch flies, with his Sir Cranion-legs.

WIN-W.

And his Numpes, to flap 'hem away.

WAS.

God, be w'you, Sir, there's your Bee in a box, and much good doo't, you.

COK.

Why, your friend, and Bartholmew; an' you be so con∣tumacious.

QVAR.

What meane you, Numpes?

WAS.

I'll not be guilty, I, Gentlemen.

OVER.

You will not let him goe, Brother, and loose him?

COK.

Who can hold that will away? I had rather loose him then the Fayre, I wusse.

WAS.

You doe not know the inconuenience, Gentlemen, you perswade to: nor what trouble I haue with him in these hu∣mours. If he goe to the Fayre, he will buy of euery thing, to a Ba∣by there; and houshold-stuffe for that too. If a legge or an arme on him did not grow on, hee would lose it i'the presse. Pray hea∣uen I bring him off with one stone! And then he is such a Rauener after fruite! you will not beleeue what a coyle I had, t'other day, to compound a businesse betweene a Katerne-peare-woman, and him, about snatching! 'tis intolerable, Gentlemen.

WIN-W.

O! but you must not leaue him, now, to these ha∣zards, Numpes.

WAS.

Nay, hee knowes too well, I will not leaue him, and that makes him presume: well, Sir, will you goe now? if you haue such an itch i'your feete, to foote it to the Fayre, why doe you stop, am I your Tarriars? goe, will you goe? Sir, why doe you not goe?

COK.

O Numps! haue I brought you about? come Mistresse Grace, and Sister, I am resolute Batt, i'faith, still.

GRA.

Truely, I haue no such fancy to the Fayre; nor ambiti∣on to see it; there's none goes thither of any quality or fashion.

COK.

O Lord, Sir! you shall pardon me, Mistris Grace, we are inow of our selues to make it a fashion: and for qualities, let Numps alone, he'l finde qualities.

QVAR.

What a Rogue in apprehension is this! to vnderstand her language no better.

WIN-W.

I, and offer to marry to her? well, I will leaue the chase of my widdow, for to day, and directly to the Fayre. These flies 〈…〉〈…〉 this hot season, but engender vs excellent creeping sport. 〈…〉〈…〉 man that has but a spoone full of braine, would think ••o ••arewell, Iohn.

IOH.

Win, you see, 'tis in fashion, to goe to the Fayre, Win: we ••u••t to the Fayre too, you, and I, Win. I haue an affaire i'the Fayre, 〈◊〉〈◊〉, a Puppet-play of mine owne making, say nothing, that I writ

for ••he motion man, which you must see, Win.

WIN.

I would I might Iohn, but my mother will neuer con∣sent to such a prophane motion: she will call it.

IOH.

Tut, we'll haue a deuice, a dainty one; (Now, Wit, helpe at a pinch, good Wit come, come, good Wit, and't be thy will.) I haue it, Win, I haue it 'ifaith, and 'tis a fine one. Win, long to eate of a Pigge, sweet Win, i'the Fayre; doe you see? i'the heart o'the Fayre; not at Pye-Corner. Your mother will doe any thing, Win, to satisfie your longing, you know, pray thee long, presently, and be sicke o'the sudden, good Win. I'll goe in and tell her, cut thy lace i'the meane time, and play the Hypocrite, sweet Win.

WIN.

No, I'll not make me vnready for it. I can be Hypocrite enough, though I were neuer so straight lac'd.

IOH.

You say true, you haue bin bred i'the family, and brought vp to't. Our mother is a most elect Hypocrite, and has maintain'd us all this seuen yeere with it, like Gentle-folkes.

WIN.

I, Let her alone, Iohn, she is not a wise wilfull widdow for nothing, nor a sanctified sister for a song. And let me alone too, I ha' somewhat o'the mother in me, you shall see, fetch her, fetch her, ah, ah.

ACT. I. SCENE. VI.

PVRECRAFT. WIN. IOHN. BVSY. SALOMON.

NOw, the blaze of the beauteous discipline, fright away this euill from our house! how now Win-the-fight, Child: how do you? Sweet child, speake to me.

WIN.

Yes, forsooth.

PVR.

Looke vp, sweet Win-the-fight, and suffer not the enemy to enter you at this doore, remember that your education has bin with the purest, what polluted one was it, that nam'd first the vn∣cleane beast, Pigge, to you, Child?

WIN.

(Vh, vh.)

IOH.

Not I, o' my sincerity, mother: she long'd aboue three houres, ere she would let me know it; who was it Win?

WIN.

A prophane blacke thing with a beard, Iohn.

PVR.

O! resist it, Win-the-fight, it is the Tempter, the wicked Tempter, you may know it by the fleshly motion of Pig, be strong against it, and it's foule temptations, in these assaults, whereby it broacheth flesh and blood, as it were, on the weaker side, and pray against it's carnall prouocations, good child, sweet child, pray.

IOH.

Good mother, I pray you; that she may eate some Pigge, and her belly full, too; and doe not you cast away your owne child, and perhaps one of mine, with your tale of the Tempter: how doe you, Win? Are you not sicke?

WIN.

Yes, a great deale, Iohn, (vh, vh.)

PVR.

What shall we doe? call our zealous brother Busy hither, for his faithfull fortification in this charge of the aduersary; child, my deare childe, you shall eate Pigge, be comforted, my sweet child.

WIN.

I, but i'the Fayre, mother.

PVR.

I meane i'the Fayre, if it can be any way made, or found lawfull; where is our brother Busy? Will hee not come? looke vp, child.

IOH.

Presently, mother, as soone as he has cleans'd his beard. I found him, fast by the teeth, i'the cold Turkey-pye, i'the cupbord, with a great white loafe on his left hand, and a glasse of Malmesey on his right.

PVR.

Slander not the Brethren, wicked one.

IOH.

Here hee is, now, purified, Mother.

PVR.

O brother Busy! your helpe heere to edifie, and raise vs vp in a scruple; my daughter Win-the-fight is visited with a naturall disease of women; call'd, A longing to eate Pigge.

IOH.

I Sir, a Bartholmew-pigge: and in the Fayre.

PVR.

And I would be satisfied from you, Religiously-wise, whether a widdow of the sanctified assembly, or a widdowes daughter, may commit the act, without offence to the weaker sisters.

BVS.

Verily, for the disease of longing, it is a disease, a carnall disease, or appetite, incident to women: and as it is carnall, and incident, it is naturall, very naturall: Now Pigge, it is a meat, and a meat that is nourishing, and may be long'd for, and so conse∣quently eaten; it may be eaten; very exceeding well eaten: but in the Fayre, and as a Bartholmew-pig, it cannot be eaten, for the very calling it a Bartholmew-pigge, and to eat it so, is a spice of Idolatry, and you make the Fayre, no better then one of the high Places. This I take it, is the state of the question. A high place.

IOH.

I, but in state of necessity: Place should giue place, M^r▪ Busy, (I haue a conceit left, yet.)

PVR.

Good Brother, Zeale-of-the-land, thinke to make it as lawfull as you can.

IOH.

Yes Sir, and as soone as you can: for it must be Sir; you see the danger my little wife is in, Sir.

PVR.

Truely, I doe loue my child dearely, and I would not haue her miscarry, or hazard her first fruites, if it might be other∣wise.

BVS.

Surely, it may be otherwise, but it is subiect, to constru∣ction, subiect, and hath a face of offence, with the weake, a great

face, a foule face, but that face may haue a vaile put ouer it, and be shaddowed, as it were, it may be eaten, and in the Fayre, I take it, in a Booth, the tents of the wicked: the place is not much, not very much, we may be religious in midst of the prophane, so it be eaten with a reformed mouth, with sobriety, and humblenesse; not gorg'd in with gluttony, or greedinesse; there's the feare: for, should she goe there, as taking pride in the place, or delight in the vncleane dressing, to feed the vanity of the eye, or the lust of the palat, it were not well, it were not fit, it were abominable, and not good.

IOH.

Nay, I knew that afore, and told her on't, but courage, Win, we'll be humble enough; we'll seeke out the homeliest Booth i'the Fayre, that's certaine, rather then faile, wee'll eate it o' the ground.

PVR.

I, and I'll goe with you my selfe, Win the-fight, and my brother, Zeale-of-the-land, shall goe with vs too, for our better con∣solation.

WIN.

Vh, vh.

IOH.

I, and Salomon too, Win, (the more the merrier) Win, we'll leaue Rabby Busy in a Booth. Salomon, my cloake.

SAL.

Here, Sir.

BVS.

In the way of comfort to the weake, I will goe, and eat. I will eate exceedingly, and prophesie; there may be a good vse made of it, too, now I thinke on't: by the publike eating of Swines flesh, to professe our hate, and loathing of Iudaisme, whereof the brethren stand taxed. I will therefore eate, yea, I will eate excee∣dingly.

IOH.

Good, i'faith, I will eate heartily too, because I will be no Iew, I could neuer away with that stiffenecked generation: and truely, I hope my little one will be like me, that cries for Pigge so, i'the mothers belly.

BVS.

Very likely, exceeding likely, very exceeding likely.