Win. Let's away, her language grows greafier than her pigs.

Urf. Does't fo, fnotty-nofe? good Lord! are you fniveling? You were engendered on a fhe-beggar in a barn, when the bald thrasher, your fire, was scarce

warm.

Win. Pray thee let's go.

Quar. No, faith; I'll ftay the end of her now: I know the cannot laft long: I find by her fimiles she wanes apace.

Urf. Does the fo? I'll fet you gone. Gi' me my pig-pan hither a little. I'll fcald you hence, an' you will not go.

Knoc. Gentlemen, these are very ftrange vapours! and very idle vapours! I affure you.

Quar. You are a very serious ass, we affure you.

Knoc. Humh! afs? and ferious? nay, then pardon me my vapour. I have a foolish vapour, gentlemen: Any man that does vapour me the afs, mafter Quarlous

Quar. What then, mafter Jordan ?

Knoc. I do vapour him the lie.

Quar. Faith, and to any man that vapours me the lie, I do vapour that.

Knoc. Nay then, vapours upon vapours.

Edg. Nig. 'Ware the pan, the pan, the pan, fhe comes with the pan, gentlemen. God blefs the wo[Urs'la comes in with the fcalding pan.

man.

Urf. Oh.

Tra. What's the matter?

Just. Goodly woman!

Moo. Miftrefs!

[They fight.

[She falls with it.

Urf. Curfe of hell, that ever I faw thefe fiends; oh! I ha fcalded my leg, my leg, my leg, my leg. I ha' loft a limb in the fervice! run for fome cream and fallad oil, quickly. Are you under-peering, you VOL. III.

X

baboon?

baboon? rip off my hofe, an' you be men, men,

men.

Moo. Run you for some cream, good mother Jone. I'll look to your basket.

Leath. Beft fit up i' your chair, Urs'la. Help, gentlemen.

Knoc. Be of good cheer, Urs; thou haft hindered me the currying of a couple of ftallions here, that abus'd the good race-bawd o' Smithfield; 'twas time for 'em to go.

Nig. I'faith, when the pan came, they had made you run elfe. (This had been a fine time for purchase, if you had ventur'd.)

Edg. Not a whit, thefe fellows were too fine to carry money.

Knoc. Nightingale, get fome help to carry her leg out o' the air; take off her fhoes; body o' me, the has the mallanders, the fcratches, the crown fcab, and the quitter bone i' the t'other leg.

Urf. Oh, the pox! why do you put me in mind o' my leg thus, to make it prick and shoot? would you ha' me i'the hofpital afore my time?

Knoc. Patience, Urs, take a good heart, 'tis but a blifter as big as a windgall; I'll take it away with the white of an egg, a little honey and hog's greafe, ha' thy pasterns well roll'd, and thou fhalt pace again by to-morrow. I'll tend thy booth, and look to thy affairs the while thou fhalt fit i' thy chair, and give directions, and fhine Urfa major.

SCENE

Justice, Edgworth, Nightingale, Cokes, Wafpe, Miftrefs Overdo, Grace.

Just. These are the fruits of bottle ale and tobacco! the foam of the one, and the fumes of the other! Stay young man, and despise not the wifdom of these few hairs that are grown grey in care of thee.

Edg. Nightingale, ftay a little. Indeed I'll hear fome o' this!

Cok. Come, Numps, come, where are you? Welcome into the Fair, miftrefs Grace.

Edg. 'Slight, he will call company, you shall see, and put us into doings presently.

Juft. Thirft not after that frothy liquor, ale: for who knows when he openeth the ftopple, what may be in the bottle? Hath not a fnail, a fpider, yea, a neuft been found there? thirst not after it, youth; thirst not after it.

Cok. This is a brave fellow, Numps, let's hear him. Waf. 'Sblood, how brave is he? in a garded coat? You were best truck with him, e'en ftrip, and truck presently, it will become you, why will you hear him, because he is an afs, and may be a-kin to the Cokefes.

Cok. O, good Numps.

Juft. Neither do thou luft after that tawney weed tobacco.

Cok. Brave words!

Just. Whole complexion is like the Indian's that vents it!

Cok. Are they not brave words, fifter?

Juft. And who can tell, if before the gathering and making up thereof, the Alligarta hath not pifs'd

thereon?

Waf. 'Heart let 'em be brave words, as brave as they will! an' they were all the brave words in a country, how then? will you away yet? ha' you enough on him? mistress Grace, come you away, I pray you, be not you acceffary. If you do lose your licence, or fomewhat else, fir, with liftning to his fables, fay Numps is a witch, with. all my heart, do, fay fo.

Cok. Avoid i' your fattin doublet, Numps.

Juft. The creeping venom of which fubtle ferpent, as fome late writers affirm, neither the cutting of the perilous plant, nor the drying of it, nor the lighting or burning, can any way perfway or affwage.

Cok. Good i' faith! is't not, fifter?

Juft. Hence it is that the lungs of the tobacconist are rotted, the liver fpotted, the brain fmoked like the backfide of the pig-woman's booth here, and the whole body within, black as her pan you saw e'en now without.

Cok. A fine fimilitude that, fir! did you fee the pan?

Edg. Yes, fir.

Just. Nay, the hole in the nofe here of fome tobacco-takers, or the third noftril, (if I may fo call it) which makes that they can vent the tobacco out, like the ace of clubs, or rather the flower-de-lis, is caused from the tobacco, the meer tobacco! when the poor innocent pox, having nothing to do there, is miferably and most unconfcionably flander'd.

Cok. Who would ha' mifs'd this, fifter?
Over. Not any body but Numps.

Cok. He does not understand.

Edg. Nor you feel.

[He picketh his purje.

Cok. What would you have, fifter, of a fellow that knows nothing but a basket-hilt, and an old fox in't? the best mufick in the Fair will not move a log.

Edg. In, to Urs'la, Nightingale, and carry her com

fort:

fort fee it told. This fellow was fent to us by Fortune, for our first fairing.

Just. But what speak I of the diseases of the body, children of the Fair?

Cok. That's to us, fifter. Brave i' faith!

Just. Hark, O you fons and daughters of Smithfield! and hear what malady it doth the mind: it causeth fwearing, it caufeth fwaggering, it causeth fnuffling and fnarling, and now and then a hurt.

Over. He hath fomething of mafter Overdo, methinks, brother.

Çok. So methought, fifter, very much of my brother Overdo: and 'tis when he speaks.

Juft. Look into any angle o' the town, (the Streights, or the Bermudas') where the quarrelling leffon is read, and how do they entertain the time, but with bottle ale and tobacco; the lecturer is o' one fide, and his pupils o' the other; but the feconds are ftill bottle-ale and tobacco, for which the lecturer reads, and the novices pay. Thirty pound a week in bottleale forty in tobacco! and ten more in ale again. Then for a fuit to drink in, fo much, and (that being flaver'd) so much for another fuit, and then a third fuit, and a fourth fuit! and still the bottle-ale flavereth, and the tobacco ftinketh.

Waf. Heart of a mad-man! are you rooted here? Will you never away? what can any man find out in this bawling fellow, to grow here for? he is a full handful higher fin' he heard him. Will you fix here,

and fet up a booth, fir?

Juft. I will conclude briefly

Waf. Hold your peace, you roaring rafcal, I'll

3 The STREIGHTS, or the BERMUDAS ] Cant-names then given to the places frequented by bullies, knights of the poft, and fencing mafters: fo our poet, in his epiftle to the earl of Dorset:

Turn pirates here at land,

"Ha' their Bermudas, and their Streights i' th' Strand."

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run