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.

ACT. II. SCENE. I.

IVSTICE OVERDOO.

WEll, in Iustice name, and the Kings; and for the common-wealth! defie all the world, Adam Ouerdoo, for a disguise, and all story; for thou hast fitted thy selfe, I sweare; faine would I meet the Linccus now, that Eagles eye, that peircing Epi∣daurian serpent (as my Quint. Horace cal's him) that could discouer a Iustice of Peace, (and lately of the Quorum) vnder this couering. They may haue seene ma∣ny a foole in the habite of a Iustice; but neuer till now, a Iustice in the habit of a foole. Thus must we doe, though, that wake for the publike good: and thus hath the wise Magistrate done in all ages. There is a doing of right out of wrong, if the way be found. Neuer shall I enough commend a worthy worshipfull man, some∣time a capitall member of this City, for his high wisdome, in this point, who would take you, now the habit of a Porter; now of a Carman; now of the Dog-killer, in this moneth of August; and in the winter, of a Seller of tinder-boxes; and what would hee doe in all these shapes? mary goe you into euery Alehouse, and down in∣to euery Celler; measure the length of puddings, take the gage of blacke pots, and cannes, I, and custards with a sticke; and their circumference, with a thrid; weigh the loaues of bread on his middle-finger; then would he send for 'hem, home; giue the pud∣dings to the poore, the bread to the hungry, the custards to his children; breake the pots, and burne the cannes, himselfe; hee Would not trust his corrupt officers; he would do't himselfe. would all men in authority would follow this worthy president! For (alas) as we are publike persons, what doe we know? nay, what can wee know? wee heare with other mens eares; wee see with other mens eyes? a foolish Constable, or a sleepy Watch∣man,

is all our information, he slanders a Gentleman, by the vertue of his place, (as he calls it) and wee by the vice of ours, must be∣leeue him. As a while agone, they made mee, yea me, to mis∣take an honest zealous Pursiuant, for a Seminary: and a proper yong Batcheler of Musicke, for a Bawd. This wee are subiect to, that liue in high place, all our intelligence is idle, and most of our intelligencers, knaues: and by your leaue, our selues, thought little better, if not errant fooles, for beleeuing 'hem. I Adam Ouerdoo, am resolu'd therefore, to spare spy-money hereafter, and make mine owne discoueries. Many are the yeerely enormities of of this Fayre, in whose courts of Pye-pouldres I haue had the ho∣nour during the three dayes sometimes to sit as Iudge. But this is the speciall day for detection of those foresaid enormities. Here is my blacke booke, for the purpose; this the cloud that hides me: vnder this couert I shall see, and not be seene. On Iunius Brutus. And as I began, so I'll end: in Iustice name, and the Kings; and for the Common-wealth.

ACT. II. SCENE. II.

LEATHERHEAD. TRASH. IVSTICE. VRS'LA. MOONE-CALFE. NIGHTINGALE. Costermonger. Passengers.

THe Fayre's pestlence dead, mee thinkes; people come not a∣broad, to day, what euer the matter is. Doe you heare, Sister Trash, Lady o'the Basket? sit farther with your ginger-bread-pro∣geny there, and hinder not the prospect of my shop, or I'll ha' it proclaim'd i'the Fayre, what stuffe they are made on.

TRA.

Why, what stuffe are they made on, Brother Leather-head? nothing but what's wholesome, I assure you.

LEA.

Yes, stale bread, rotten egges, musty ginger, and dead honey, you know.

IVS.

I! haue I met with enormity, so soone?

LEA.

I shall marre your market, old Ione.

TRA.

Marre my market, thou too-proud Pedler? do thy worst; I defie thee, I, and thy stable of hobby-horses. I pay for my ground, as well as thou dost, and thou wrong'st mee for all thou art parcell-poet, and an Inginer. I'll finde a friend shall right me, and make a ballad of thee, and thy cattell all ouer. Are you puft vp with the pride of your wares? your Arsedine?

LEA.

Goe to, old Ione, I'll talke with you anone; and take you

downe too, afore Iustice Ouerdoo, he is the man must charme you, Ile ha' you i'the Piepouldres.

TRA.

Charme me? I'll meet thee face to face, afore his wor∣ship, when thou dar'st: and though I be a little crooked o'my bo∣dy, I'll be found as vpright in my dealing, as any woman in Smith∣field, I, charme me?

IVS.

I am glad, to heare, my name is their terror, yet, this is doing of Iustice.

LEA.

What doe you lacke? what is't you buy? what do you lacke? Rattles, Drums, Halberts, Horses, Babies o••the best? Fid∣dles o'th finest?

Enter Cost.

COS.

Buy any peares, peares, fine, very fine peares.

TRA.

Buy any ginger-bread, guilt ginger-beard!

NIG.

Hey, now the Fayre's a filling! O, for a Tune to startle The Birds o'the Booths here billing▪ Yeerely with old Saint Barthle! The Drunkards they are wading, The Punques, and Chapmen trading; Who'ld see the Fayre without his lading? Buy any ballads; new ballads?

VRS.

Fye vpon't: who would weare out their youth, and prime thus, in roasting of pigges, that had any cooler vocation? Hell's a kind of cold cellar to t, a very fine vault, o'my conscience! what Moone-calfe.

MOo.

Heere, Mistresse.

NIG.

How now Vrsla? in a heate, in a heat?

VRS.

My chayre, you false faucet you; and my mornings draught, quickly, a botle of Ale, to quench mee, Rascall. I am all sire, and fat, Nightingale, I shall e'en melt away to the first woman, a ribbe againe, I am afraid. I doe water the ground in knots, as I goe, like a great Garden-pot, you may follow me by the S.S.^s. I make.

NIG.

Alas, good Vr's; was Zekiel heere this morning?

VRS.

Zekiel? what Zekiel?

NIG.

Zekiel Edgeworth, the ciuill cut-purse, you know him well enough; hee that talkes bawdy to you still: I call him my Se∣cretary.

VRS.

He promis'd to be heere this morning, I remember.

NIG.

When he comes, bid him stay: I'll be backe againe pre∣sently.

VRS.

Best take your mornings dew in your belly, Nightingale, come,

Moon-calfe brings in the Chaire.

Sir, set it heere, did not I bid you should get this chayre let out o'the sides, for me, that my hips might play? you'll neuer thinke of any thing, till your dame be rumpgall'd; 'tis well, Changeling: because it can take in your Grasse-hoppers thighes, you care for no more. Now, you looke as you had been i' the cor∣ner

o'the Booth, fleaing your breech, with a candles end, and set fire o'the Fayre. Fill, Stote: fill.

IVS.

This Pig-woman doe I know, and I will put her in, for my second enormity, shee hath beene before mee, Punke, Pinnace and Bawd, any time these two and twenty yeeres, vpon record i'the Pie-poudres.

VRS.

Fill againe, you vnlucky vermine.

MOO.

'Pray you be not angry, Mistresse, I'll ha' it widen'd anone.

VRS.

No, no, I shall e'en dwindle away to't, ere the Fayre be done, you thinke, now you ha' heated me? A poore vex'd thing I am, I feele my selfe dropping already, as fast as I can: two stone a sewet aday is my proportion: I can but hold life & soule together, with this (heere's to you, Nightingale) and a whiffe of tobacco, at most. Where's my pipe now? not fill'd? thou errant Incubee.

NIG.

Nay, Vrsla, thou'lt gall betweene the tongue and the teeth, with fretting, now.

VRS.

How can I hope, that euer hee'll discharge his place of trust, Tapster, a man of reckoning vnder me, that remembers no∣thing I say to him? but looke too't, sirrah, you were best, three pence a pipe full, I will ha' made, of all my whole halfe pound of tabacco, and a quarter of a pound of Coltsfoot, mixt with it too, to itch it out. I that haue dealt so long in the fire, will not be to seek in smoak, now. Then 6. and 20. shillings a barrell I will aduance o'my Beere; and fifty shillings a hundred o'my bottle-ale, I ha'told you the waies how to raise it. Froth your cannes well i'the filling, at length Rogue, and iogge your bottles o' the buttocke, Sirrah, then skinke out the first glasse, euer, and drinke with all companies, though you be sure to be drunke; you'll mis-reckon the better, and be lesse asham'd on't. But your true tricke, Rascall, must be, to be euer busie, and mis-take away the bottles and cannes, in hast, be∣fore they be halfe drunke off, and neuer heare any body call, (if they should chance to marke you) till you ha' brought fresh, and be able to forsweare 'hem. Giue me a drinke of Ale.

IVS.

This is the very wombe, and bedde of enormitie! grosse, as her selfe! this must all downe for enormity, all, euery whit on't.

VRS.

Looke, who's there, Sirrah?

One knocks.

fiue shillings a Pigge is my price, at least; if it be a sow-pig, six pence more▪ if she be a great bellied wife, and long for't, six pence more for that.

IVS.

O Tempora! O mores! I would not ha' lost my discouery of this one grieuance, for my place, and worship o'the Bench, how is the poore subiect abus'd, here! well, I will fall in with her, and with her Moone-calfe, and winne out wonders of enormity. By thy leaue, goodly woman, and the fatnesse of the Fayre: oyly as the Kings constables Lampe, and shining as his Shooing-horne! hath thy Ale vertue, or thy Beere strength? that the tongue of man may be tickled? and his palat pleas'd in the morning? let

thy pretty Nephew here, goe search and see.

VRS.

What new Roarer is this?

MOO.

O Lord! doe you not know him, Mistris, 'tis mad Ar∣thur of Bradley, that makes the Orations▪ Braue Master, old Arthur of Bradley, how doe you? welcome to the Fayre, when shall wee heare you againe, to handle your matters? with your backe againe a Booth, ha? I ha' bin one o'your little disciples, i'my dayes!

IVS.

Let me drinke, boy, with my loue, thy Aunt, here; that I may be eloquent: but of thy best, lest it be bitter in my mouth, and my words fall foule on the Fayre.

VRS.

Why dost thou not fetch him drinke? and offer him to sit?

MOO.

Is't Ale, or Beere? Master Arthur?

IVS.

Thy best, pretty stripling, thy best; the same thy Doue drinketh, and thou drawest on holy daies.

VRS.

Bring him a sixe penny bottle of Ale; they say, a fooles handsell is lucky.

IVS.

Bring both, child. Ale for Arthur, and Beere for Bradley. Ale for thine Aunt, boy. My disguise takes to the very wish, and reach of it. I shall by the benefit of this, discouer enough, and more: and yet get off with the reputation of what I would be. A certaine midling thing, betweene a foole and a madman.

ACT. II. SCENE. III.

KNOCKHVM. to them.

WHat! my little leane Vrsla! my shee-Beare! art thou aliue yet? with thy litter of pigges, to grunt out another Bartholmew Fayre? ha!

VRS.

Yes, and to amble afoote, when the Fayre is done, to heare you groane out of a cart, vp the heauy hill.

KNO.

Of Holbourne, Vrsla, meanst thou so? for what? for what, pretty Vrs?

VRS.

For cutting halfe-penny purses: or stealing little penny dogges, out o'the Fayre.

KNO.

O! good words, good words Vrs.

IVS.

Another speciall enormitie. A cutpurse of the sword! the boote, and the feather! those are his marks.

VRS.

You are one of those horsleaches, that gaue out I was dead, in Turne-bull streete, of a surfet of botle ale, and tripes?

KNO.

No, 'twas better meat Vrs: cowes vdders, cowes vd∣ders!

VRS.

Well, I shall be meet with your mumbling mouth one day.

KNO.

What? thou'lt poyson mee with a neuft in a bottle of Ale, will't thou? or a spider in a tobacco-pipe, Vrs? Come, there's no malice in these fat folkes, I neuer feare thee, and I can scape thy leane Moonecalfe heere. Let's drinke it out, good Vrs, and no vapours!

IVS.

Dost thou heare, boy? (there's for thy Ale, and the rem∣nant for thee) speake in thy faith of a faucet, now; is this goodly person before vs here, this vapours, a knight of the knife?

MOO.

What meane you by that, Master Arthur?

IVS.

I meane a child of the horne-thumb, a babe of booty, boy; a cutpurse.

MOO.

O Lord, Sir! far from it. This is Master Dan. Knock∣hum: Iordane the Ranger of Turnebull. He is a horse-courser, Sir.

IVS.

Thy dainty dame, though, call'd him cutpurse.

MOO.

Like enough, Sir, shee'll doe forty such things in an houre (an you listen to her) for her recreation, if the toy take her i'the greasie kerchiefe: it makes her fat you see. Shee battens with it.

IVS.

Here might I ha'beene deceiu'd, now: and ha'put a fooles blot vpon my selfe, if I had not play'd an after game o' discre∣tion.

KNO.

Alas poore Vrs, this's an ill season for thee.

Vrsla comes in againe dropping.

VRS.

Hang your selfe, Hacney-man.

KNO.

How? how? Vrs, vapours! motion breede vapours?

VRS.

Vapours? Neuer tuske, nor twirle your dibble, good Iordane, I know what you'll take to a very drop. Though you be Captaine o'the Roarers, and fight well at the case of pis-pots, you shall not fright me with your Lyon-chap, Sir, nor your tuskes, you angry? you are hungry: come, a pigs head will stop your mouth, and stay your stomacke, at all times.

KNO.

Thou art such another mad merry Vrs still! Troth I doe make conscience of vexing thee, now i'the dog-daies, this hot weather, for feare of foundring thee i'the bodie; and melting down a Piller of the Fayre. Pray thee take thy chayre againe, and keepe state; and let's haue a fresh bottle of Ale, and a pipe of tabacco; and no vapours. I'le ha' this belly o'thine taken vp, and thy grasse scour'd, wench; looke! heere's Ezechiel Edgworth; a fine boy of his inches, as any is i'the Fayre! has still money in his purse, and will pay all, with a kind heart; and good vapours.

ACT. II. SCENE. IIII.

To them EDGVVORTH. NIGHTINGALE. Corne-cutter. Tinder-box-man. Passengers.

THat I will, indeede, willingly, Master Knockhum, fetch some Ale, and Tabacco.

LEA.

What doe you lacke, Gentlemen? Maid: see a fine hobby horse for your young Master: cost you but a token a weeke his prouander.

COR.

Ha' you any cornes 'iyour feete, and toes?

TIN.

Buy a Mouse-trap, a Mouse-trap, or a Tormentor for a Flea.

TRA.

Buy some Ginger-bread.

NIG.

Ballads, Ballads! fine new ballads:

Heare for your loue, and buy for your money. A delicate ballad o' the Ferret and the Coney. A preseruatiue again' the Punques euill. Another of Goose-greene-starch, and the Deuill. A dozen of diuine points, and the Godly garters. The Fairing of good councell, of an ell and three quarters. What is't you buy? The Wind-mill blowne downe by the witches fart! Or Saint George, that O! did breake the Dragons heart!

EDG.

Master Nightingale, come hither, leaue your mart a little.

NIG.

O my Secretary! what sayes my Secretarie?

IVS.

Childe o'the bottles, what's he? what he?

MOO.

A ciuill young Gentleman, Master Arthur, that keepes company with the Roarers, and disburses all, still. He has euer mo∣ney in his purse; He payes for them; and they roare for him: one do's good offices for another. They call him the Secretary, but he serues no body. A great friend of the Ballad-mans they are neuer asunder.

IVS.

What pitty 'tis, so ciuill a young man should haunt this debaucht company? here's the bane of the youth of our time ap∣parant. A proper penman, I see't in his countenance, he has a good Clerks looke with him, and I warrant him a quicke hand.

MOO.

A very quicke hand, Sir.

EDG.

All the purses, and purchase, I giue you to day by con∣ueyance,

bring hither to Vrsla's presently.

This they whisper, that Ouerdoo heares it not.

Heere we will meet at night in her ••odge, and share. Looke you choose good places, for your standing i'the Fayre, when you sing, Nightingale.

VRS.

I, neere the fullest passages; and shift'hem often.

EDG.

And i'your singing, you must vse your hawks eye nimbly, and flye the purse to a marke, still, where 'tis worne, and o'which side; that you may gi'me the signe with your beake, or hang your head that way i'the tune.

VRS.

Enough, talke no more on't: your friendship (Masters) is not now to beginne. Drinke your draught of Indenture, your sup of Couenant, and away, the Fayre fils apace, company begins to come in, and I ha' ne'er a Pigge ready, yet.

KNO.

Well said! fill the cups, and light the tabacco: let's giue fire i'th' works, and noble vapours.

EDG.

And shall we ha' smockes Vrsla, and good whimsies, ha?

VRS.

Come, you are i'your bawdy vaine! the best the Fayre will afford, Zekiel, if Bawd Whit keepe his word; how doe the Pigges, Moone-calfe?

MOO.

Very passionate, Mistresse, one on'hem has wept out an eye. Master Arthur o'Bradley is melancholy, heere, no body talkes to him. Will you any tabacco Master Arthur?

IVS.

No, boy, let my meditations alone.

MOO.

He's studying for an Oration, now.

IVS.

If I can, with this daies trauell, and all my policy, but re∣scue this youth, here, out of the hands of the lewd man, and the strange woman. I will sit downe at night, and say with my friend Ouid, Iam{que} opus exegi, quod nec Iouis ira, nec ignis, &c.

KNO.

Here Zekiel; here's a health to Vrsla, and a kind vapour, thou hast money i'thy purse still; and store! how dost thou come by it? Pray thee vapour thy friends some in a courteous va∣pour.

EDG.

Halfe I haue, Master Dan. Knockhum, is alwaies at your seruice,

IVS.

Ha, sweete nature! what Goshawke would prey vpon such a Lambe?

KNO.

Let's see, what 'tis, Zekiel! count it, come, fill him to pledge mee.

ACT. II. SCENE. V.

WIN-WIFE. QVARLOVS. to them.

WEe are heere before 'hem, me thinkes.

QVAR.

All the better, we shall see 'hem come in now.

LEA.

What doe you lacke, Gentlemen, what is't you lacke? a fine Horse? a Lyon? a Bull? a Beare? a Dog, or a Cat? an ex∣cellent fine Bartholmew▪ bird? or an Instrument? what is't you lacke?

QVAR.

S'lid! heere's Orpheus among the beasts, with his Fiddle, and all!

TRA.

Will you buy any comfortable bread, Gentlemen?

QVAR.

And Ceres selling her daughters picture, in Ginger-worke!

WIN.

That these people should be so ignorant to thinke vs chapmen for 'hem! doe wee looke as if wee would buy Ginger-bread? or Hobby-horses?

QVAR.

Why, they know no better ware then they haue, nor better customers then come. And our very being here makes vs fit to be demanded, as well as others. Would Cokes would come! there were a true customer for 'hem.

KNO.

How much is't▪ thirty shillings? who's yonder! Ned Winwife? and Tom Quarlous, I thinke! yes, (gi' me it all) (gi' me it all) Master Win-wife! Master Quarlous! will you take a pipe of tabacco with vs? do not discredit me now, Zekiel.

WIN.

Doe not see him! he is the roaring horse-courser, pray thee let's auoyd him: turne downe this way.

QVAR.

S'lud, I'le see him, and roare with him, too, and hee roar'd as loud as Neptune, pray thee goe with me.

WIN.

You may draw me to as likely an inconuenience, when you please, as this.

QVAR.

Goe to then, come along, we ha' nothing to doe, man, but to see sights, now.

KNO.

Welcome Master Quarlous, and Master Winwife! will you take any froth, and smoake with vs?

QVAR.

Yes, Sir, but you'l pardon vs, if we knew not of so much familiarity betweene vs afore.

KNO.

As what, Sir?

QVAR.

To be so lightly inuited to smoake, and ••roth.

KNO.

A good vapour! will you sit downe, Sir? this is old

Vrsla's mansion, how like you her bower? heere you may ha'your Punque, and your Pigge in state, Sir, both piping hot.

QVAR.

I had rather ha' my Punque, cold, Sir.

IVS.

There's for me, Punque! and Pigge!

VRS.

What Moonecalfe? you Rogue.

She calls within.

MOO.

By and by, the bottle is almost off Mistresse, here Ma∣ster Arthur.

VRS.

I'le part you, and your play-fellow there, i'the garded coat, an' you sunder not the sooner.

KNO.

Master Win-wife, you are proud (me thinkes) you doe not talke, nor drinke, are you proud?

WIN.

Not of the company I am in, Sir, nor the place, I assure you.

KNO.

You doe not except at the company! doe you? are you in vapours, Sir?

MOO.

Nay, good Master Dan: Knockhum, respect my Mistris Bower, as you call it; for the honour of our Booth, none o'your vapours, heere.

VRS.

Why, you thinne leane Polcat you, and they haue a minde to be i'their vapours, must you hinder'hem? what did you know Vermine, if they would ha' lost a cloake, or such a triflle?

She comes out with a fire-brand.

must you be drawing the ayre of pacification heere? while I am tormented, within, i'the fire, you Weasell?

MOO.

Good Mistresse, 'twas in the behalfe of your Booth's cre∣dit, that I spoke.

VRS,

Why? would my Booth ha' broake, if they had fal'ne out in't? Sir? or would their heate ha' fit'd it? in, you Rogue, and wipe the pigges, and mend the fire, that they fall not, or I'le both baste and roast you, till your eyes drop out, like 'hem. (Leaue the bottle behinde you, and be curst a while.)

QVAR.

Body o'the Fayre! what's this? mother o'the Bawds?

KNO.

No, she's mother o'the Pigs, Sir, mother o'the Pigs!

WIN.

Mother o'the Furies, I thinke, by her firebrand.

QVAR.

Nay, shee is too fat to be a Fury, sure, some walking Sow of tallow!

WIN.

An inspir'd vessell of Kitchin-sluffe!

QVAR.

She'll make excellent geere for the Coach-makers,

She drinkes this while.

here in Smithfield, to anoynt wheeles and axell trees with.

VRS.

I, I, Gamesters, mocke a plaine plumpe soft wench o' the Suburbs, doe, because she's iuicy and wholesome: you must ha' your thinne pinch'd ware, pent vp i'the compasse of a dogge-collar, (or 'twill not do) that lookes like a long lac'd Conger, set vp∣right, and a greene feather, like fennell i'the Ioll on't.

KNO.

Well said Vrs, my good Vrs; to 'hem Vrs.

QVAR.

Is shee your quagmite, Dan: Knockhum? is this your Bogge?

NIG.

We shall haue a quarrel presently.

KNO.

How? Bog? Quagmire? foule vapours! hum'h!

QVAR.

Yes, hee that would venture for't, I assure him, might sinke into her, and be drown'd a weeke, ere any friend hee had, could find where he were.

WIN.

And then he would be a fort'night weighing vp againe.

QVAR.

'Twere like falling into a whole Shire of butter: they had need be a teeme of Dutchmen, should draw him out.

KNO.

Answer 'hem, Vrs, where's thy Bartholmew-wit, now? Vrs, thy Bartholmew-wit?

VRS.

Hang 'hem, rotten, roguy Cheaters, I hope to see 'hem plagu'd one day (pox'd they are already, I am sure) with leane play∣house poultry, that has the boany rumpe, sticking out like the Ace of Spades, or the point of a Partizan, that euery rib of'hem is like the tooth of a Saw: and will so grate 'hem with their hips, & shoul∣ders, as (take 'hem altogether) they were as good lye with a hurdle.

QVAR.

Out vpon her, how she drips! she's able to giue a man the sweating Sicknesse, with looking on her.

VRS.

Mary looke off, with a patch o'your face; and a dosen i'your breech, though they be o'scarlet, Sir. I ha' seene as fine out∣sides, as either o'yours, bring lowsie linings to the Brokers, ere now, twice a weeke?

QVAR.

Doe you thinke there may be a fine new Cuckingstoole i'the Fayre, to be purchas'd? one large inough, I meane. I know there is a pond of capacity, for her.

VRS.

For your mother, you Rascall, out you Rogue, you hedge bird, you Pimpe, you pannier-mans bastard, you.

QVAR.

Ha, ha, ha.

VRS.

Doe you sneere, you dogs-head, you Trendle tayle! you looke as you were begotten a'top of a Cart in haruest-time, when the whelp was hot and eager. Go, snuffe after your brothers bitch, M^rs Commodity, that's the Liuory you weare, 'twill be out at the el∣bows, shortly. It's time you went to't, for the to'ther remnant.

KNO.

Peace, Vrs, peace, Vrs, they'll kill the poore Whale, and make oyle of her. Pray thee goe in.

VRS.

I'le see 'hem pox'd first, and pil'd, and double pil'd.

WIN.

Let's away, her language growes greasier then her Pigs.

VRS.

Dos't so, snotty nose? good Lord! are you sniueling? you were engendred on a she-begger, in a barne, when the bald Thrasher, your Sire, was scarce warme.

WIN.

Pray thee, let's goe.

QVAR.

No, faith: I'le stay the end of her, now: I know shee cannot last long; I finde by her similes, shee wanes a pace.

VRS.

Do's shee so? I'le set you gone. Gi' mee my Pig-pan hi∣ther a little. I'le scald you hence, and you will not goe.

KNO.

Gentlemen, these are very strange vapours! and very idle vapours! I assure you.

QVAR.

You are a very serious asse, wee assure you.

KNO.

Humh! Asse? and serious? nay, then pardon mee my vapour. I haue a foolish vapour, Gentlemen: any man that doe's vapour me, the Asse, Master Quarlous—

QVAR.

What then, Master Iordan?

KNO.

I doe vapour him the lye.

QVAR.

Faith, and to any man that vapours mee the lie, I doe vapour that.

KNO.

Nay, then, vapours vpon vapours.

EDG. NIG.

'Ware the pan, the pan, the pan, * 1.1 shee comes with the pan, Gentlemen. God blesse the woman.

VRS.

Oh.

ERA.

What's the matter?

IVS.

Goodly woman!

MOO.

Mistresse!

VRS.

Curse of hell, that euer I saw these Feinds, oh! I ha' scal∣ded my leg, my leg, my leg, my leg. I ha' lost a limb in the seruice! run for some creame and sallad oyle, quickly. Are you vnder-pee∣ring, you Baboun? rip off my hose, an' you be men, men, men.

MOO.

Runne you for some creame, good mother Ione. I'le looke to your basket.

LEA.

Best sit vp i'your chaire, Vrsla. Helpe, Gentlemen.

KNO.

Be of good cheere, Vrs, thou hast hindred me the curry∣ing of a couple of Stallions, here, that abus'd the good race-Bawd o'Smithfield; 'twas time for 'hem to goe.

NIG.

I faith, when the panne came, they had made you runne else. (this had beene a fine time for purchase, if you had ven∣tur'd.)

EDG.

Not a whit, these fellowes were too fine to carry mo∣ney.

KNO.

Nightingale, get some helpe to carry her legge out o'the ayre; take off her shooes; body o'me, she has the Mallanders, the scratches, the crowne scabbe, and the quitter bone, i'the to∣ther legge.

VRS.

Oh! the poxe, why doe you put me in minde o'my leg, thus, to make it prick, and shoot? would you ha' me i'the Hospi∣tall, afore my time?

KNO.

Patience, Vrs, take a good heart, 'tis but a blister, as big as a Windgall; I'le take it away with the white of an egge, a little honey, and hogs grease, ha' thy pasternes well rol'd, and thou shall't pase againe by to morrow. I'le tend thy Booth, and looke to thy affaires, the while: thou shalt sit i'thy chaire, and giue dire∣ctions, and shine Vrsa maior.

ACT. II. SCENE. VI.

IVSTICE. EDGEWORTH. NIGHTIN∣GALE. COKES. WASPE. Mistris OVERDOO. GRACE.

THese are the fruites of bottle-ale, and tabacco! the some of the one, and the fumes of the other! Stay young man, and despise not the wisedome of these few hayres, that are growne gray in care of thee.

EDG.

Nightingale, stay a little. Indeede I'le heare some o' this!

COK.

Come, Numps, come, where are you? welcome into the Fayre, Mistris Grace.

EDG.

S'light, hee will call company, you shall see, and put vs into doings presently.

IVS.

Thirst not after that frothy liquor, Ale: for, who knowes, when hee openeth the stopple, what may be in the bottle? hath not a Snaile, a Spider, yea, a Neuft bin found there? thirst not af∣ter it, youth: thirst not after it.

COK.

This is a braue fellow, Numps, let's heare him.

WAS.

S'blood, how braue is he? in a garded coate? you were best trucke with him, e'en strip, and trucke presently, it will be∣come you, why will you heare him, because he is an Asse, and may be a kinnne to the Cokeses?

COK.

O, good Numps!

IVS.

Neither doe thou lust after that tawney weede, tabacco.

COK.

Braue words!

IVS.

Whose complexion is like the Indians that vents it!

COK.

Are they not braue words, Sister?

IVS.

And who can tell, if, before the gathering, and making vp thereof, the Alligarta hath not piss'd thereon?

WAS.

Heart let 'hem be braue words▪ as braue as they will! and they were all the braue words in a Countrey, how then? will you away yet? ha'you inough on him? Mistris Grace, come you away, I pray you, be not you accessary. If you doe lose your Li∣cence, or somewhat else, Sir, with listning to his fables: say, Numps, is a witch, with all my heart, doe, say so.

COK.

Avoyd i' your sattin doublet, Numps.

IVS.

The creeping venome of which subtill serpent, as some

late writers affirme; neither the cutting of the perrillous plant, nor the drying of it, nor the lighting, or burning, can any way perssway or, asswage.

COK.

Good, i'faith! is't not Sister?

IVS.

Hence it is, that the lungs of the Tabacconist are rotted, the Liuer spotted, the braine smoak'd like the backside of the Pig-womans Booth, here, and the whole body within, blacke, as her Pan, you saw e'en now, without.

COK.

A sine similitude, that, Sir! did you see the panne?

EDG.

Yes, Sir.

IVS.

Nay, the hole in the nose heere, of some tabacco-takers, or the third nostrill, (if I may so call it) which makes, that they can vent the tabacco out, like the Ace of clubs, or rather the Flower-de-lice, is caused from the tabacco, the meere tabacco! when the poore innocent pox, hauing nothing to doe there, is miserably, and most vnconscionably slander'd.

COK.

Who would ha' mist this, Sister?

OVER.

Not any body, but Numps.

COK.

He do's not vnderstand.

EDG.

Nor you feele.

COK.

What would you haue, Sister,

Hee picketh his purse.

of a fellow that knowes nothing but a basket-hilt, and an old Fox in't? the best musique i'the Fayre, will not moue a logge.

EDG.

In, to Vrsla, Nightingale, and carry her comfort: see it told. This fellow was sent to vs by fortune, for our first fairing.

IVS.

But what speake I of the diseases of the body, children of the Fayre?

COK.

That's to vs, Sister. Braue i'faith!

IVS.

Harke, O, you sonnes and daughters of Smithfield! and heare what mallady it doth the minde: It causeth swearing, it causeth swaggering, it causeth snuffling, and snarling, and now and then a hurt.

OVE.

He hath something of Master Ouerdo••, mee thinkes, bro∣ther.

COK.

So mee thought, Sister, very much of my brother Ouer∣doo: And 'tis, when he speakes.

IVS.

Looke into any Angle o'the towne, (the Streights, or the Bermuda's) where the quarrelling lesson is read, and how doe they entertaine the time, but with bottle-ale, and tabacco? The Lecturer is o'one side, and his Pupils o'the other; But the seconds are still bottle ale, and tabacco, for which the Lecturer reads, and rhe Nouices pay. Thirty pound a weeke in bo••••le-ale! forty in ta∣bacco! and ten more in Ale againe. Then for a sute to drinke in, so much, and (that being slauer'd) so much for another sute, and then a third sute, and a fourth sute! and still the bottle-ale slaue∣reth, and the tabacco stinketh!

WAS.

Heart of a mad-man! are you rooted heere? well you

neuer away? what can any man finde out in this bawling fellow, to grow heere for? hee is a full handfull higher, sin'he heard him, will you fix heere? and set vp a Booth? Sir?

IVS.

I will conclude briefely—

WAS.

Hold your peace, you roaring Rascall, I'le runne my head i'your chaps else. You were best build a Booth, and en∣tertaine him, make your Will, and you say the word, and him your heyre! heart, I neuer knew one taken with a mouth of a peeke, a∣fore. By this light, I'le carry you away o' my backe, and you will not come.

He gets him vp on pick∣packe.

COK.

Stay Numpes, stay, set mee downe: I ha' lost my purse, Numps, O my purse! one o'my fine purses is gone.

OVER.

Is't indeed, brother?

COK.

I, as I am an honest man, would I were an errant Rogue, else! a plague of all roguy, damn'd cut-purses for me.

WAS.

Blesse 'hem with all my heart, with all my heart, do you see! Now, as I am no Infidell, that I know of, I am glad on't. I I am, (here's my witnesse!) doe you see, Sir? I did not tell you of his fables, I? no, no, I am a dull malt-horse, I, I know nothing. Are you not iustly seru'd i'your conscience now? speake i'your consci∣ence. Much good doe you with all my heart, and his good heart that has it, with all my heart againe.

EDG.

This fellow is very charitable, would he had a purse too! but, I must not be too bold, all at a time.

COK.

Nay, Numps, it is not my best purse.

WAS.

Not your best! death! why should it be your worst? why should it be any, indeed, at all? answer me to that, gi'mee a reason from you, why it should be any?

COK.

Nor my gold, Numps; I ha' that yet, looke heere else, Sister.

WAS.

Why so, there's all the feeling he has!

OVER.

I pray you, haue a better care of that, brother.

COK.

Nay, so I will, I warrant you; let him catch this, that catch can. I would ••aine see him get this, looke you heere.

WAS.

So, so, so, so, so, so, so, so! Very good.

COK.

I would ha' him come againe, now, and but offer at it. Sister, will you take notice of a good iest? I will put it iust where th'other was, and if we ha' good lucke, you shall see a delicate fine trap to catch the cutpurse, nibling.

EDG.

Faith, and he'll trye ere you be out o'the Fayre.

COK.

Come, Mistresse Grace, pre'thee be not melancholy for my mis-chance; sorrow wi'not keepe it, Sweet heart.

GRA.

I doe not thinke on't, Sir.

COOK.

'Twas but a little scuruy white money, hang it: it may hang the cutpurse, one day. I ha' gold left to gi'thee a fayring, yet, as hard as the world goes: nothing angers me, but that no body heere, look'd like a cutpurse, vnlesse 'twere Numps.

WAS

How? I? I looke like a cutpurse? death! your Sister's a cutpurse! and your mother and father, and all your kinne were cutpurses! And here is a Rogue is the baud o'the cutpurses, whom I will beat to begin with.

COK.

Numps, Numps.

OVER.

Good M^r Humphrey.

WAS.

You are the Patrico! are you? the Patriarch of the cutpurses? you share, Sir, they say, let them share this with you. Are you i'your hot fit of preaching againe? I'le coole you.

IVS.

Murther, murther, murther.

IVS.

Hold thy hand, childe of wrath, and heyre of anger,

They speake all together: and Waspe beats the Iustice.

make it not Childermasse day in thy fury, or the feast of the French Bartholmew, Parent of the of the Massacre.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Vrsla comes in, with the scalding-pan.

  They fight. Shee falls with it.