This is Agroicus, a rustique clownish fellow, whose discourse is all Country; An extreame of urbanity, where∣by you may observe there is a vertue in jesting.
They talke of witty discourse, and fine conceits, and I ken not what a deale of prittle prattle would make a Cat pisse to heare 'em. Cannot they be content with their Grannams English? They thinke they talke learnedly, when I had rather heare our brindled curre howle, or Sow grunt. They must be breaking of jests with a murraine, when I had as live heare 'em breake wind Sir reverence! My zonne Dick is a pretty Bookish Scholar of his age, God blesse him; he can write and read, and makes bonds, and bills, and hobligations, God save all. But by'r lady, if I wotted it would make him such a Iacksauce, as to have more wit then his vore-vathers, he should have learn'd nothing for old Agroicus, but to keepe a Tally. There is a new trade Page 79 lately come up to be a vocation, I wis not what; they call 'em—Boets, a new name for Beggars I think, since the statute against Gypsies. I would not have my zon Dick one of those Boets for the best Pig in my styeby the mackins: Boets? heau'n shield him, and zend him to be a good Varmer; if he can cry hy, ho, gee, hut, gee, ho, it is better I trow then being a Poet. Boets? I had rather zee him remitted to the jayle, and haue his twelve God-vathers, good men and true contemne him to the Gallowes; and there see him vairely perse∣cuted. There is Bomolochus one of these Boets, now a bots take all the red-nose tribe of 'em for Agroicus! he does so abuse his betters! well 'twas a good world, when I virst held the Plow!
His wit is dangerous and I dare not stay.