KNOCKEM

Of Holbourne, Vrsla, meanest thou so? for what? for what, pretty Urs ? Oh! good words, good words Urs. No, 'twas better meat Urs : cows udders, cows ud dears! What? thou'lt poison me with a neuft in a bottle of Ale, will't thou? or a spider in a tobacco-pipe, Urs ? Come, there's no malice in these fat folks, I never fear thee, and I can escape thy lean Moonecalfe here. Let's drink it out, good Urs, and no vapours! Alas poor Urs, this's and ill season for thee. Vrsla comes in again dropping. How? how? Urs, vapours! motion breed vapours? Thou art such another mad merry Urs still! Troth I do make conscience of vexing thee, now i'the dogdays, this hight weather, for fear of foundering thee i'the body; and melting down a Pillar of the Fair. Pray thee take thy chair again, and keep state; and let's have a fresh bottle of Ale, and a pipe of tobacco; and no vapours. I'll have this belly o'thine taken up, and thy grass scoured, wench; look! here's Ezechiel Edgworth ; a fine boy of his inches, as any is i'the Fair ! has still money in his purse, and will pay all, with a kind heart; and good vapours. THat I will, indeed, willingly, Master Knockhum, fetch some Ale, and Tobacco. Well said! fill the cups, and light the tobacco: let's give fire i'th' works, and noble vapours. 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 vam pour. Let's see, what it's, Zekiel ! count it, come, fill him to pledge me. We are here before them, me thinks. How much is't thirty shillings? who's yonder! Ned Winwife? and Tom Quarlous, I think! yes, (give me it all) (give me it all) Master Win-wife ! Master Quarlous ! will you take a pipe of tobacco with us? do not discredit me now, Zekiel. Welcome Master Quarlous, and Master Winwife! will you take any froth, and smoke with us? As what, Sir? A good vapour! will you fit down, Sir? this is old Vrsla's mansion, how Like you her bower? here you may ha'your Punque, and your Pig in state, Sir, both piping hight. Master Win-wife, you are proud (me thinks) you do not talk, nor drink, are you proud? You do not except at the company! do you? are you in vapours, Sir? No, she's mother o'the Pigs, Sir, mother o'the Pigs! Well said Urs, my good Urs ; to them Urs. How? Bog? Quagmire? foul vapours! hum'h! Answer them, Urs, where's thy Bartholmew -wit, now? Urs, thy Bartholmew -wit? Peace, Urs, peace, Urs, they'll kill the poor Whale, and make oil of her. Pray thee go in. Gentlemen, these are very strange vapours! and very idle vapours! I assure you. Humh! Ass? and serious? nay, then pardon me my vapour. I have a foolish vapour, Gentlemen: any man that doe's vapour me, the Ass, Master Quarlous — I do vapour him the lie. Nay, then, vapours upon vapours. Be of good cheer, Urs, thou hast hindered me the curry king of a couple of Stallions, here, that abused the good raze- Bawd o'Smithfield; 'twas time for them to go. Nightingale, get some help to carry her leg out o'the air; take off her shoes; body o'me, she has the Mallanders, the scratches, the crown scab, and the quitter bone, i'the to there leg. Patience, Urs, take a good heart, it's but a blister, as big as a Windgall; I'll take it away with the white of and egg, a little honey, and hogs grease, have thy pasterns well rolled, and thou shall't pace again by to morrow. I'll tend thy Booth, and look to thy affairs, the while: thou shalt fit i'thy chair, and give dire ctions, and shine Ursa Mayor. These are the fruits of bottle-ale, and tobacco! the some of the one, and the fumes of the other! Stay young man, and despise not the wisdom of these few hairs, that are grown grey in care of thee. Gentlewomen, the weather's hight! whither walk you? Have a care o'your fine velvet caps, the Fair is dusty. Take a sweet delicate Booth, Little-wit is gazing at the sign; which is the Pigs-head with a large writing un der it. with boughs, here, ithe way, and cool your selves i'the shade: you and your friends. The best big and bottle-ale in the Fair, Sir. Old Vrsla is Cook, there you may read: the pigs head speaks it. Poor soul, she has had a Sringhalt, the Maryhin chco: but she's prettily amended. Excellent, excellent, Mistress, with fire of Juniper and Rose marry branches! The Oracle of the Pigs head, that, Sir. Mooncalf, entertain within there, the best big i'the Booth; a Porklike big. These are Banbury-bloods, o'the sincere stud, come a pigge-hunting. Whit, wait Whit, look to your charge. Why, Urs? why, Urs? thou'lt have vapours i'thy leg again presently, pray thee go in, it may turn to the scratches else. I what ail they Urs? Away, thou art a fool, Urs, and thy Mooncalf too, i'your ignorant vapours, now? hence, good guests, I say right hypocrites, good gluttons. In, and set a couple o'pigs o'the board, and half a dozen of the biggest bottles afore them, and call Whit, I do not love to hear Innocents abused: Fine ambling hypo crites! and a stone-puritane, with a sorrel head, and beard, good mouthed gluttons: two to a pig, away. O'the right breed, thou shalt try them by the teeth, Urs, where's this Whit? Well said, brave Whit, in, and fear the ale out o'the bottles, into the bellies of the brothers, and the sisters drink to the cause, and pure vapours. And excellent right Hypocrite! now his belly is full, he falls a railing and kicking, the Jade. A very good vapour! I'll in, and joy Vrsla, with telling, how her pig works, two and a half he eat to his share. And he has drunk a pailefull. He eats with his eyes, as well as his teeth. How now! my Galloway Nag, the staggers? would! Whit, gi'him a slit i'the forehead. Cheer up, man, a needle, and thread to stitch his ears. I'd cure him now an'I had it, with a little butter, and garlic, long-pepper, and grains. Where's my horn? I'll gi'him a mash, presently, shall take away this dizziness. Why, well said, old Flea-bitten, thou'lt never Tyre, I see. Nay, I know nothing, Sir, pardon me there. To what do you say nay, Sir? If he have reason, he may Like it, Sir. He is i'the right, and do's utter a sufficient vapour. Then it is a sweet vapour. Nay, never question him, for he is i'the right. Fight for him, Whit ? A gross vapour, he can fight for himself. I think you may, and it's true; and I allow it for a re solute vapour. In no sort, Sir, pardon me, I can allow him nothing. You mistake the vapour. They fallen by the cares. Turd, would turd? a noisome vapour, strike Whit. Nay in some sort, Sir, he may neither laugh, nor hope, in this company. No, that vapour is too lofty. Gather up, Whit, gather up, Whit, good vapours. How now Whit ? close vapours, stealing your leaps? covering in corners, would? Sayest thou so Filly? thou shalt have a leap presently, I'll horse thee my self, else. On his false, gallop, Urs, away. I conceive thee, Urs ! go thy ways, dost thou hear, Whit? is't not pity, my delicate dark chestnut here; with the fine lean head, large forehead, round eyes, even mouth, sharp ears, long neck, thin crest, close withers, plain back, deep sides, short fillets, and full flanks: with a round belly, a plump but tocke, large thighs, knit knees, straight legs, short pasterns, smooth hoofes, and short heals; should led a dull honest woe men life, that might live the life of a Lady? I, and be honest too sometime: have her wiers, and her tires, her green gowns, and velvet petticoats. Brave vapours! Yes, and wear a dressing, top, and topgallant, to come pare with ere a husband on them all, for a foretop: it is the vam pour of spirit in the wife, to cuckold, now adais; as it is the vam pour of fashion, in the husband, not to suspect. Your prying cat-eyed-citizen, is and abominable vapour. Nor any one man from another, but i'the dark. How now? what vapour's there? How now Alice ! Why, Alice, I say. Cat-a-mountaine-vapours! would! Why, Lion face! would! do you know who I am? shall I tear ruff, slit waistcoat, make rags of petticoat? would! go to, vanish, for fear of vapours. Whit, a kick, Whit, in the parting vam pour. Come brave woman, take a good heart, thou shalt be a La die, too. It's true, Vrsla, take them in, open thy wardrobe, and fit them to their calling. Greene-gownes, Crimson-petticoats, green women! my Lord Majors green women! guests o'the Game, true bred. I'll provide you a Coach, to take the air, in. Oh, they are as common as wheelebarrowes, where there are great dunghills. Every Pettifoggers wife, has them, for first he buys a Coach, that he may marry, and then he marries that he may be made Cuckold in't: For if their wives ride not to their Cuckolding, they do them no credit. Hide, and be hidden; ride, and be ridden, says the vapour of experience. BY what warrant do's it say so? Would mad child o'the Pye-pouldres, art thou there? fill us a fresh kan, Urs, we may drink together. S'lood, thou'll not stale without a warrant, shortly. Whit, Give me pen, ink and paper. I'l draw him a warrant present lie. I know, man, Fetch the drink, Whit. Oh, as brief as can be, here it's already. Adam Ouerdoo. Drink it off. I'll come to thee, anon, again. The doorkeepers speak. Shall we have fine fireworks, and good vapours! Yes, and you shall see very good vapours. Husband? and idle vapour; he must not know you, nor you im; there's the true vapour. Do you hear, Puppet. Master, these are tedious vapours; when begin you? Hang the Authors wife, a running vapour! here be La die, will stay for never a Delia o'hem all. This Gallant has interrupting vapours, troublesome vam pours, Whit, puff with him. These be fine vapours! Good Banbury-vapours. Would we were away, Whit, these are dangerous vam pours, The rest are stealing a way. best fallen off with our birds, for fear o'the Cage. Sir, I will take your counsel, and cut my hair, and leave vapours: I see, that Tobacco, and Bottle-Ale, and Big, and Whit, and very Vrsla, her self, is all vanity.