WASP

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 saved by my book, faith I'll hang first; fold it up o'your word and give it me; what must you have for't? Now, or not at all, good M r Proctor, I am for no anon's, I assure you. 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 M r Little-wit. I know? I know nothing. I, what tell you me of know king? (now I am in hast) 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 have saved two pence i'that, and I had bought it my self, but here's fourteen shillings for you. Good Lord! how long your little wife stays! pray God, Salomon, your Clerk, be not looking i'the wrong box, M r Proctor. 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. A plag e o'this box, and the pox too, and on him that made it, and her that went for't, and all that should have sought it, sent it, or brought it! do you see, Sir? Good Master Hornet, turd i'your teeth, hold you your tongue; do not I know you? your father was a Apothecary, and sold glisters, more then he gave, I wusse: and turd i'your little wives teeth too (here she come ) it'll make her spit as fine as she is, for all her veluet-custerd on her head, Sir. Why, say I have a humour not to be civil; how then? who shall compel me? you? Why a pox o'your box, once again: let your little wife stale in it, and she will. Sir, I would have you to understand, and these Gentlemen too, if they please— That I have a charge. Gentlemen. Pardon me, Sir, neither they nor you, can apprehend me, yet. (you are and 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 schoolmasters 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 learned nothing, but to sing catches, and repeat rattle bladder rattle, and Oh, Madge. I dare not let him walk alone, for fear of lear ning of vile tunes, which he will sing at supper, and in the sermon-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 feign now (for this little time I am absent) to leave him in charge with a Gentlewoman; It's true, she is A Justice of Peace his wife, and a Gentlewoman o'the hood, and his nam turall sister But what may happen, under a woman's government, there's the doubt. Gentlemen, you do not know him: he is anon there manner of piece then you think for! but nineteen year old, and yet he is taller then either of you, by the head, God bless him. I'll tell you Gentlemen— Why, I have not talked so long to be dry, Sir, you see no dust or cobwebs come out o'my mouth: do you? you'd have me gone, would you? What and I were? so I am still, and yet I will stay too; meddle you with your match, your Win, there, she has as little wit, as her husband it seems: I have others to talk to. We have been but a day and a half in town, Gentlemen, it's true, and yester day i'the afternoon, we walked London, to show the City to the Gentlewoman, he shall marry, Mistress Grace ; but, afore I will endure such another half day, with him, I'll be drawn with a good Gib-cat, through the great pond at home, as his uncle Hodge was! why, we could not meet that heathen thing, all day, but aid him: he would name you all the Signs over, as he went, aloud: and where he spied a Parrat, or a Monkey, there he was pitched, with all the littl-long-coats about him, male and female; no getting him away! I thought he would have run mad o'the black boy in Bucklers-bury, that takes the scury, roguy tobacco, there. It's no matter, whither there be, or no, what's that to you? What, the mischief, do you come with her? or she with you? To seek me? why, did you all think I was lost? or run away with your fourteen shillings worth of small beware, here? or that I had changed it i'the Fair, for hobby-horses? S'pretious—to seek me! Marry gip, goody she- Justice, Mistress French-hood ! turd i'your teeth; and turd i'your French-hoods teeth, too, to do you service, do you see? must you quote your Adam to me! you think, you are Madam Regent still, Mistress Overdo ; when I am in place? no such matter, I assure you, your reign is out, when I am in, Dame. Will't so forsooth? good Lord! how sharp you are! with being at Bethlehem yesterday? Whetston has set and edge upon you, has he? Very well, then. Did you not so? why, you shall not see't, then. Sir, I love you, and yet I do not love you, i'these fool rises, set your heart at rest; there's nothing in't, but hard words: and what would you see't for? You shall not see it, here. Why, do so, a man must give way to him a little in trifles: Gentlemen. These are errors, diseases of youth: which he will mend, when he comes to judgement, and knowledge of matters. I pray you conceive so, and I thank you. And I pray you pardon him, and I thank you again. Bless me! deliver me, help, hold me! the Fair ! Why, see it, Sir, see it, do see it! who hinders you? why do you not go see it? 'slid see it. Would the Fair and all the Drums, and Rattles in't, were i'your belly for me: they are already i'your brain: he that had the means to travel you head, now, should meet finer sights then any are i'the Fair ; and make a finer voyage on't; to see it all hung with cockleshells, pebbles, fine wheat-straws, and here and there a chicken's feather, and a cobweb. God, be w'you, Sir, there's your Be in a box, and much good doo't, you. I'll not be guilty, I, Gentlemen. You do not know the inconvenience, Gentlemen, you persuade to: nor what trouble I have with him in these hu mours. If he go to the Fair, he will buy of every thing, to a Ba by there; and householdstuff for that too. If a leg or and arm on him did not grow on, he would loose it i'the press. Pray hea ven I bring him off with one stone! And then he is such a Ravener after fruit! you will not believe what a coil I had, tother day, to compound a business between a Katerne -peare-woman, and him, about snatching! it's intolerable, Gentlemen. Nay, he knows too well, I will not leave him, and that makes him presume: well, Sir, will you go now? if you have such and itch i'your feet, to foot it to the Fair, why do you stop, am I your Tarriars? go, will you go? Sir, why do you not go? 'Sblood, how brave is he? in a guarded coat? you were best truck with him, even strip, and truck presently, it will be come you, why will you hear him, because he is and Ass, and may be a kinnne to the Cokeses ? Heart let them be brave words as brave as they will! and 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 accessary. If you do loose your Li cence, or somewhat else, Sir, with listening to his fables: say, Numps, is a witch, with all my heart, do, say so. Heart of a madman! are you rooted here? well you never away? what can any man find out in this bawling fellow, to grow here for? he is a full handful higher, sin'he herd him, will you fix here? and set up a Booth? Sir? Hold your peace, you roaring Rascal, I'll run my head i'your chaps else. You were best built a Booth, and en tertaine him, make your Will, and you say the word, and him your heir! heart, I never knew one taken with a mouth of a peek, a before. By this light, I'll carry you away of my back, and you will not come. He gets him up on pick pack. Bless them with all my heart, with all my heart, do you see! Now, as I am no Infidel, that I know of, I am glad on't. I I am, (here's my witness!) do you see, Sir? I did not tell you of his fables, I? no, no, I am a dull malt-horse, I, I know nothing. Are you not justly served i'your conscience now? speak i'your consci ence. Much good do you with all my heart, and his good heart that has it, with all my heart again. Not your best! death! why should it be your worst? why should it be any, indeed, at all? answer me to that, gi'mee a reason from you, why it should be any? Why so, there's all the feeling he has! So, so, so, so, so, so, so, so! Very good. You are the Patrico! are you? the Patriarch of the cutpurses? you share, Sir, they say, let them share this with you. Are you i'your hight fit of preaching again? I'll cool you. You were best buy a whip i'your hand to driven me. Pray you take heed you loose not your self: your best way, were even get up, and ride for more surety. Buy a tokens worth of great pins, to fasten your self to my shoulder. Will you scorse with him? you are in Smithfield, you may fit your self with a fine easy-going street-nag, for your sad dle again Michaelmasse-terme, do, has he never a little odd cart for you, to make a Carroch on, i'the country, with four pied hob byhorses? why the meazills, should you stand here, with your train, cheaping of Dogs, Birds, and Babies? you have no chil dren to bestow them on? have you? Do, do, do, do; how many shall you have, think you? and I were as you, I'd buy for all my Tenants, too, they are a kind o'ciuill Savages, that will partly with their children for rattles, pipes, and knives. You were best buy a hatchet, or two, & truck with them. A resolute fool, you are, I know, and a very sufficient Coxcomb; with all my heart; nay you have it, Sir, and you be angry, turd i'your teeth, twice: (if I said it not once afore) and much good do you. Would I had been set i'the ground, all but the head on me, and had my brains bowled at, or threshed out, when first I underwent this plague of a charge! Why, I cannot tell, Sir, it may be I am, dost grieve you? Numps? 'Sblood, you are fine and familiar! how long have we been acquainted, I pray you? Why, I hope I know't well enough, Sir, I did not ask to be told. It's no matter why, you see with your eyes, now, what I said to you to day? you'll believe me another time? A pretty question! and a very civil one! yes faith, I have my lading you see; or shall have anon, you may know whose beast I am, by my burden. If the pannier-mans Jack were ever better known by his loins of mutton, I'll be flayed, and feed dogs for him, when his time comes. How! No, the shop; buy the whole shop, it will be best, the shop, the shop! Yes, and keep it during the Fair, Bobchin. There's the tother sprindge? He runs to her shop. Will you faith? Cry you mercy! you'd be sold too, would you? what's the price on you? Jerkin, and all as you stand? have you any quam lities? Gods so, you have the selling of him! what are they? will they be bought for love, or money? For what then? victuals? You do not mean this, do you? is this your first pur chase? Like enough! I shall say any thing. I! I Cannot beget a Project, with all my political brain, yet; my Project is how to fetch off this proper young man, from his de baucht company: I have followed him all the Fair over, and still I find him with this songster: And I begin shrewdly to suspect their familiarity; and the young man of a terrible taint, Poetry! with which idle disease, if he be infected, there's no hope of him, in a state-course. Actum est, of him for a common-wealths-man: I he go to't in Rhyme, once. Why so! he's flown to another limebush, there he will flutter as long more; till he have never a feather left. Is there a vexation Like this, Gentlemen? will you believe me now, here after? shall I have credit with you? Yet these will serve to pick the pictures out of your pockets, you shall see. To tell you true, it's too good for you, less you had grace to follow it. I beseech you leave your wagers, and let him end his matter, an't may be. Come, do not make a stir, and cry your self and Ass, thorough the Fair afore your time. I pray you seek some other gamester, to play the fool with: you may loose it time enough, for all your Fair -wit. Why, it's well; very well, exceeding pretty, and well. Sir, Sir, keep your debauch, and your fine Bartholmew -terms to your self; and make as much on'hem as you please. But gi'me this from you, i'the mean time: I beseech you, see if I can look to this. Wasp takes the Licence from him. Why? because you are and Ass, Sir, there's a reason the shortest way, and you will needs have it; now you ha'got the trick of losing, you'd loose your breech, an't 'twere lose. I know you, Sir, come, deliver, you'll go and crack the vermin, you breed now, will you? it's very fine, will you have the truth on't? they are such retchless flies as you are, that blow cutpurses a broad in every corner; your foolish having of money, makes them. And there were no wiser then I, Sir, the trade should lie open for you, Sir, it should faith, Sir. I would teach your wit to come to your head, Sir, as well as your land to come into your hand, I as sure you, Sir. Nay, Gentlemen, never pity me, I am not worth it: Lord send me at home once, to Harrow o'the Hill again, if I tram well any more, call me Coriat ; withal my heart. Why, I say nay to't. To any thing, whatsoever it is, so long as I do not Like it. I have no reason, nor I will hear of no reason, nor I will look for no reason, and he is and Ass, that either knows any, or looks for't from me. I, in some sense, I care not if I grant you. Why then, I do grant him nothing; and I have no sense. 'Slid, but I have sense, now I think on't better, and I will grant him any thing, do you see? Nay, it is no sweet vapour, neither, Sir, it stinks, and I'll stand to't. Nay, then it do's not stink, Sir, and it shall not stink. I, by my leave, it may stink, I know that. How can it not? I'll have nothing confessed, that concerns me. I am not i'the right, nor never was i'the right, nor never will be i'the right, while I am in my right mind, Why? what have you to do? is't any matter to you? Nor, I wu'not be, now I think on't, do you hear, new acquaintance, do's no man mind me, say you? Nay, I care as little how, as you do, that was not my question. It may be I can, but it may be, I will not, how then? Why, and I'll choose whither I'll choose or no. Nay, then, I do think you do not think, and it is no resolute vapour. He mistakes nothing, Sir, in no sort. A turd i'your teeth, never pre dee me, for I will have nothing mistaken. Why do you laugh, Sir? Yes, then he may both laugh, and hope in any sort, an't please him. No exceeding neither, Sir. Upon your Iustice-hood? Marry shite o'your hood, you'll commit? Spoke Like a true Justice of peace's wife, indeed, and a fine female Lawyer! turd i'your teeth for a fee, now. Good Mistress Vnderdoo hold your tongue. Alas! and why alas from you, I beseech you? or why poor Numps, goody Rich ? am I come to be pitied by your tuft taffeta now? why Mistress, I knew Adam, the Clerk, your hus band, when he was Adam Scrivener, and writ for two pence a sheet, as high as he bears his head now, or you your hood, Dame. What are you, Sir? The watch comes in. Heart, what have you to do? cannot a man quarrel in quietness? but he must be put out on't by you? what are you? Watch? 'Sblood, you are a sweet watch, indeed. A body would think, and you watched well a nights, you should be contented to sleep at this time a day. Get you to your fleas, and your flocke-beds, you Rogues, your kennels, and lie down close. Ent Wasp with the offi cers. Sir, you are a welsh Cuckold, and a prating Runt, and no Constable. You stink of leeks, Metheglyn, and chee e. You Rogue. It is no matter, how; pray you look off. And to be sold, did you not? pray you mind your busi ness, and you have any. I shall put a trick upon your welsh diligence, per haps. What are you, Sir? And do you sighs, and groan too, or rejoice in your affliction? Nay, an'you begin to quarrel, Gentlemen, I'll leave you. I have paid for quarreling too lately: look you, a device, He gets out. but shifting in a hand for a foot. God b'w'you. For this once, Sir. How now friends? what's here to do? I believe you lie; if you do, I'll have my money a gain, and Beatrice you. Did you see a Master of mine, come in here, a tall young Squire of Harrow o'the Hill ; Master Bartholmew Cokes ? Look he be, you were best: but it is very likely: I wonder I found him not at all the rest. I have been at the Eagle, and the black Wolf, and the Bull with the five legs, and two pizzles; (he was a Calf at Uxbridge Fair, two years ago) And at the dogs that dance the Morrice, and the Hare of the Taber ; and missed him at all these! Sure this must needs be some fine sighed, that holds him so, if it have him. Heyday, he's at work in his Doublet, and hose; do you hear, Sir? are you employed? that you are bore headed, and so busy? Do's he know that? nay, then the date of my Authority is out; I must think no longer to reign, my government is at and end. He that will correct another, must want fault in himself. I pray you intend your game, Sir, let me alone. I would the stocks were about your neck, Sir; conditi on I hung by the heals in them, till the wonder were off from you, with all my heart. Well acted, with all my heart. Yes, they lacked but you to be their second, all this while. Wasp miss seth the Li cence. How! I'll be hanged then. I will never speak while I live, again, for ought I know. How? I? I look Like a cutpurse? death! your Sister's a cutpurse! and your mother and father, and all your kin were cutpurses! And here is a Rogue is the baud o'the cutpurses, whom I will Beatrice to begin with.