Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Ben Jonson
Edgworth, Trouble-all, Nightingale, Cokes, Costardmonger.
Come away, Nightingale, I pray thee.
Tro.
VVhither go you? where's your VVarrant?
Edg.
VVarrant! for what, Sir?
Tro.
For what you go about, you know how fit it is;
an' you have no VVarrant, bless you, I'll pray for you,
that's all I can do.
[Goes out.
Edg.
VVhat means he?
Nig.
A Mad-man that haunts the Fair; do you not
know him? It's marvel he has not more Followers after
his ragged Heels.
Edg.
Beshrew him, he startled me: I thought he had known
known of our Plot. Guilt's a terrible thing! Ha' you
prepar'd the Costard-monger?
Nig.
Yes, and agreed for his Basket of Pears; he is at
the Corner here, ready. And your Prise, he comes down
sailing that way all alone, without his Protector; he is
rid of him, it seems.
Edg.
I, I know; I should ha' follow'd his Protector-
ship, for a Feat I am to do upon him: But this offer'd it
self so i' the way, I could not let it scape: Here he
comes, whistle; be this Sport call'd, Dorring the Dottrel.
[Nightingale whistles.
Nig.
Wh, wh, wh, wh, &c.
Cok.
By this Light, I cannot find my Gingerbread
Wife, nor my Hobbyhorse Man, in all the Fair now, to
ha' my Money again: And I do not know the way out
on't, to go home for more. Do you hear, Friend, you
that whistle? what Tune is that you whistle?
Nig.
A new Tune, I am practising, Sir.
Cok.
Dost thou know where I dwell, I pray thee?
Nay, on with thy Tune; I ha' no such haste for an An-
swer: I'll practise with thee.
Cos.
Buy any Pears, very fine Pears, Pears fine.
[Nightingale sets his Foot afore him,
and he falls with his Basket.
Cok.
Gods so! a muss, a muss, a muss, a muss.
Cos.
Good Gentleman, my Ware, my Ware; I am a
poor Man. Good Sir, my Ware.
Nig.
Let me hold your Sword, Sir, it troubles you.
Cok.
Do, and my Cloke, an' thou wilt, and my Hat
too.
[Cokes falls a scrambling, whilst they run
away with his things.
Edg.
A delicate great Boy! Me thinks he out-scram-
bles 'em all. I cannot perswade my self, but he goes to
Grammar-school yet, and plays the Treuant to day.
Nig.
Would he had another Purse to cut, Zekiel.
Edg.
Purse! A Man might cut out his Kidneys, I
think, and he never feel 'em, he is so earnest at the
Sport.
Nig.
His Soul is half way out on's Body, at the Game.
Edg.
Away, Nightingale; that way.
Cok.
I think I am furnish'd for Cattern-pears, for one
Under-meal: Gi' me my Cloak.
Cos.
Good Gentleman, give me my Ware.
Cok.
Where's the Fellow I ga' my Cloak to? My
Cloak and my Hat? Ha! Gods 'lid, is he gone? Thieves,
Thieves; help me to cry, Gentlemen.
[He runs out.
Edg.
Away, Costard-monger, come to us to Ursla's.
Talk of him to have a Soul! 'Heart, if he have any
more than a thing given him in stead of Salt, only to
keep him from stinking, I'll be hang'd afore my time,
presently: Where should it be trow? in his Blood? He
has not so much to'ard it in his whole Body, as will
maintain a good Flea: And if he takes this course, he
will not ha' so much Land left, as to rear a Calf, with-
in this Twelve-month. Was there ever green Plover so
pull'd! That his little Overseer had been here now, and
been but tall enough to see him steal Pears, in exchange
for his Bever-hat and his Cloke thus! I must go find him
out next, for his Black Box, and his Patent (it seems)
he has of his Place; which I think the Gentleman
would have a Reversion of, that spoke to me for it so
earnestly.
He comes again.
Cok.
Would I might lose my Doublet,
and Hose too, as I am an honest Man, and
never stir, if I think there be any thing
but thieving and cozning i' this whole Fair. Barthomew
Fair, quoth he; an' ever any Bartholmew had that luck
in't that I have had, I'll be Martyr'd for him, and in
Throws a-way his Pears.
Smithfield too. I ha' paid for my Pears,
a rot on 'em, I'll keep 'em no longer; you
were Choak-pears to me: I had been bet-
ter ha' gone to Mum-chance for you, I
wuss. Me thinks the Fair should not have
us'd me thus, and 'twere but for my Names-sake; I
would not ha' us'd a Dog o' the Name so. O, Numps
will triumph now! Friend, do you know who I am?
or where I lie? I do not my self, I'll be sworn. Do but
carry me home, and I'll please thee; I ha' Money enough
there. I ha' lost my self, and my Cloke, and my Hat,
and my fine Sword, and my Sister, and Numps, and Mi-
stris Grace, (a Gentlewoman that I should ha' married)
and a Cut-work Handkercher she ga' me, and two Pur-
ses, to day; and my Bargain o' Hobby-horses and Gin-
gerbread, which grieves me worst of all.
[Trouble-all comes again.
Tro.
By whose Warrant, Sir, have you done all this?
Cok.
Warrant? Thou art a wise Fellow indeed; as if
a Man need a VVarrant to lose any thing with!
Tro.
Yes, Justice Overdoo's VVarrant, a Man may get
and lose with, I'll stand to't.
Cok.
Justice Overdoo? Dost thou know him? I lie
there; he is my Brother-in-Law, he married my Sister:
Pray thee shew me the way; dost thou know the House?
Tro.
Sir, shew me your VVarrant; I know nothing
without a VVarrant, pardon me.
Cok.
Why, I warrant thee; come along: thou shalt
see I have wrought Pillows there, and Cambrick Sheets,
and Sweet-bags too. Pray thee guide me to the House.
Tro.
Sir, I'll tell you; go you thither your self first
alone, tell your worshipful Brother your Mind, and but
bring me three Lines of his Hand, or his Clerks, with
Adam Overdoo underneath; here I'll stay you, I'll obey
you, and I'll guide you presently.
Cok.
'Slid, this is an Ass, I ha' found him; Pox upon
me, what do I talking to such a dull Fool? Farewel,
you are a very Coxcomb, do you hear?
Tro.
I think I am; if Justice Overdoo sign to it, I am,
and so we are all: he'll quit us all, multiply us all.