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desire of fate, I might dwell in a drum, and take in
my sustenance with an old broken tobacco-pipe and a
straw. Dost thou ever think to bring thine ears or
stomach to the patience of a dry grace, as long as thy
table-cloth ? and dron'd out by thy son here (that
might be thy father) till all the meat o'thy board has
forgot it was that day i' the kitchen ? or to brook the
noise made in a question of predestination, by the good
labourers and painful eaters assembled together, put
to 'em by the matron your spouse; who moderates
with a cup of wine, ever and anon, and a sentence out
of Knoxe between? or the perpetual spitting before and
after a sober drawn exhortation of six hours, whose
better part was the hum-ha-hum ? or to hear pray’rs
groand out over thy iron chests, as if they were
charms to break 'em? And all this for the hope of two
apostle-spoons', to suffer ! and a cup to eat a cawdle
in! for that will be thy legacy. She'll ha' convey'd
her state safe enough from thee, an' she be a right
widow.

Win-w. Alas, I am quite off that scent now.
Quar. How so?

Win-w. Put off by a brother of Banbury, one that, they say, is come here, and governs all already.

Quar. What do you call him? I knew divers of those Banburians when I was in Oxford.

Win-w. Master Little-wit can tell us.

Lit. Sir! good Win go in, and if master Bartholomew Cokes his man come for the licence, (the little old fellow) let him speak with me ; what say you, gentlemen ?

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2 And all this for the hope of two A POSTLE-SPOONS.] They were of a round bowl, with a little head at the end, and cwelve in a set; from whence they had the name of apostle spoons. There was anciently a certain unguent or electuary, which from the number of its ingredients was called apoftolorum.

Win-w. What call you the reverend elder you

told me of ? your Banbury man?

Lit. Rabbi Busy, fir; he is more than an elder, he is a prophet, sir.

Quar. O, I know him! a baker, is he not?

Lit. He was a baker, sir, but he does dream now, and see visions; he has given over his trade.

Quar. I remember that too; out of a scruple he took, that (in spic'd conscience) those cakes he made, were serv'd to Bridales, May-poles, Morrisses, and such profane feasts and meetings; his christen-name is Zeal-of-the-land.

Lit. Yes, fir, Zeal-of-the-land Busy.
Win-w. How! what a name's there!

Lit. Othey have all such names, sir; he was witness for Win here, (they will not be callid Godfathers) and nam'd her Win-the-fight : you thought her name had been Winnifred, did you not?

Win-w. I did indeed.

Lit. He would ha' thought himself a stark reprobate, if it had.

Quar. I, for there was a blue-starch woman o' the name at the same time. A notable hypocritical vermin it is; I know him. One that stands upon his face, more than his faith, at all times : ever in feditious motion, and reproving for vain-glory; of a most lunacick conscience and spleen, and affects the violence of singularity in all he does : (he has undone a grocer here, in Newgate-market, that broke with him, trusted him with currans, as errant a zeal as he, that's by the way :) by his profession he will ever be i' the state of innocence though, and childhood ; derides all antiquity, defies any other learning than inspiration ; and what discretion foever years should afford him, it is all prevented in his original ignorance: ha' not to do with him, for he is a fellow of a most arrogant and invincible dulness, I assure you. Who is this?

SCENE

T 3

SC EN E IV.
Waspe, Little-wit, Win-wife, Quarlous.
Waf. By your leave, gentlemen, with all my
heart to you ; and give you good morrow.

Master
Little-wit, my business is to you.

business is to you. Is this licence ready?

Lit. Here I ha' it for you in my hand, master Humphrey.

Waf. That's well; nay, never open or read it to me, it's labour in vain, you know. I am no clerk, I scorn to be sav'd by my book, i' faith I'll hang first; fold it up o' your word, and gi' it me; what must you ha' for't?

Lit. We'll talk of that anon, master Humphrey.

Waf. Now, or not at all, good mr. Proctor, I am for no anons, I assure you.

Lit. Sweet Win, bid Solomon fend me the little black box within in my study.

Waf. I, quickly, good mistress, I pray you: for I have both eggs o' the spit, and iron i' the fire, say what

you must have, good mr. Little-wit.
Lit. Why, you know the price, mr. Numps.

Waf. I know ? I know nothing, I. what tell you me of knowing ? (now I am in haste) sir, I do not know, and I will not know, and I scorn to know, and yet (now I think on't) I will, and do know as well as another; you must have a mark for your thing here, and eight-pence for the box ; I could ha' sav'd twopence i' that, an I had bought it my self; but here's fourteen shillings for you. Good Lord! how long your little wife stays! pray God Solomon, your clerk, be not looking i' the wrong box, mr. Proctor.

Lit. Good i' faith! no, I warrant you, Solomon is wiser than so, fir.

Was.

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Waf. Fie, fie, fie, by your leave, master Little wit, this is scurvy, idle, foolish and abominable, with all my heart ; I do not like it.

Win-w. Do you hear ? Jack Little-wit, what business does thy pretty head think this fellow may have, that he keeps such a coyl with?

Quar. More than buying of ginger bread i' the cloister here, (for that we allow him) or a gilt pouch i' the fair:

Lit. Master Quarlous, do not mistake him; he is his mafter's both-hands, I assure you.

Quar. What? to pull on his boots a mornings, or his stockings, does he ?

Lit. Sir, if you have a mind to mock him, mock him softly; and look t'other way: for if he apprehend you fout him once, he will fly at you presently: A terrible testy old fellow, and his name is Waspe too.

Quar. Pretty infect! make much on him.

Was. A plague o' this box, and the pox 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! do you see, sir !

Lit. Nay, good Mr. Waspe.

Was. Good master Hornet, turd i' your teeth, hold you your tongue: do not I know you ? your father was a pothecary, and sold glisters, more than he gave, I wulse : and turd i' your little wife's teeth too (here she comes) 'twill make her spit, as fine as she is, for all her velvet custard on her head, sir.

Lit. O! be civil, master Numps.

Waf. Why, say I have a humour not to be civil ; how then? who shall compel me? you?

Lit. Here is the box now.

Waf. Why, a pox o'your box, once again : let your little wife ftale in it, and she will. Sir, I would have

you to understand, and these gentlemen too, if they please

Win-w. With all our hearts, sir.
Waf. That I have a charge, gentlemen.
Lit. They do apprehend, fir.

Wal. Pardon me, fir, neither they nor you can apprehend me yet. (You are an ass.) I have a young master, he is now upon his making and marring; the whole care of his well-doing is now mine. His foolish school-masters have done nothing, but run up and down the country with him to beg puddings and cakebread of his tenants, and almost spoiled him; he has learn'd nothing but to sing catches, and repeat Rattle Bladder, rattle, and O Madge! I dare not let him walk alone, for fear of learning of vile tunes, which he will fing at supper, and in the fermon-times! if he meet but a carman i' the street, and I find him not talk to keep him off on him, he will whistle him and all his tunes over at night in his sleep! he has a head full of bees! I am fain now, for this little time I am absent, to leave him in charge with a gentlewoman: 'tis true, she is a justice of peace his wife, and a gentlewoman o' the hood, and his natural fister : but what may happen under a woman's government, there's the doubt. Gentlemen, you do not know him ; he is another manner of piece than you think for! but nineteen years old, and yet he is caller than either of

you by the head, God bless him.

Quar. Well, methinks this is a fine fellow!

Win-w. He has made his master a finer by this description, I should think.

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

Waf. I'll tell you, gentlemen-
Lit. Will't please you drink, master Waspe.
Waf. Why, I ha' not talk't so long to be dry, sir

you

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