PHILIP

Arrest me? at whose suit? Tom Chartley, Dick Lever-poole, stay, Ime arrested. Hold Doll, thrust not a weapon upon a mad woman, Officers step back into the Tavern, you might would taken me ith street, and not ith' Tavern entry, you Cannibals. Four score pounds draws deep; farewell Doll, come Sergeants, I'll step to mine Uncle not far off, hereby in Pud ding lane, and he shall bail me: if not, Chartly you shall find me playing at Span-counter, and so farewell. Send me some Tobacco. I would seen light gold sir, pass away amongst Mere cers. None but Tailors will say so, I never laid any thing upon her back: I confess I took up a petticoat and a raised forepart for her, but who has to do with that? Her name is Dorothy sir, I hope thats no ill name. Sbloud sir what does he with her? Nay father, if destiny dog me I must have her: you have often told me the nine Muses are all women, and you deal with them, may not I the better be allowed one than you so many? look you Sir, the Northern man loves white-meats, the Southery man Salads, the Essex man a Calf, the Kentishman a Wagtail, the Lancashire man and Egg-pie, the Welshman Leeks and Cheese, and your Londoners raw Mutton, so Father god-boy, I was born in London. Farewell father Snot — Sir if I have her, I'll spend more in mustard & vinegar in a year, then both you in beef. I hope sir then to Cozen you too. Sfoot, what tame suaggerer was this I met Doll. He paid that shot, and then shot pistolets into my poc kets: hark wench: chinck chink, makes the punk wanton and the Baud to wink. Capers. But why? why Dol, go these two Like Beadells in blue? would? Enough to set up a Goldsmiths shop. I shall hardly borrow it of him but I could get one of mine Ants, to beat the bush for me, and she might get the bird. Say no more 'tis done. No, no. Come my little Punk with thy two Compositors to this unlawful painting house, thy pounders a my old poe icall dad will be here presently, ache up thy State in this chair, and bear thy self as if thou Wertenberg talking to thy pottecary after the receipt of a purgation: look scurvily upon him: sometime be merry and stand upon thy pantoffles Like a new elected scavinger. Right, for he takes thee to be a woman of a great count: hark upon my life he's come. He sweats already believe it. Gods precious, we never thought of her device before, pray God it be any thing tolerable. Oh horrible! Now he begins to eye the goblet. Your son is come to full age sir: and hath taken posse ssion of the gift of his Godfather. No sir, isle kill no Poet least his ghost write satires a gainst me. For her Country, and has born her Country. This was the party you rail worser on: I keep no worse continued ̄ pany than your self father, you were wont to say venery is Like usury that it may be allowed though it be not lawful. I'll tell you why I sent for you, for nothing but to show you that your gravity may be drawn in: white hairs may fallen into the company of drabs aswell as read beards into the soci ety of knaves: would not this woman deceive a whole camp ith Low-countries, and make one Commander believe she on lie kept her cabin for him, and yet quarter twenty more in't. How dost Doll ? How! how, mistress Dorothy ? Yes Sir In a basket. I cry you mercy. Marry with the Musician, and is madder by this time News father, most strange news out of the Low-con tries, your good Lady and Mistress that set you to work upon a dozen of cheese-trenchers is new lighted at the next Inn, and the old venerable Gentleman's father with her. He's blown up already. Exit. Young, why I warrant sixteen hath scarce gone over her. Rends sir, Rends, she lives upon her Rends, and I can have her. How sir; Tailors. The punks in her humer—pax. Exit. No as Ime virtuous sir, ask the two Gentlemen. From the house of prayer and fasting—the Counter. No Gods my Judge, but I was ashamed to go into prison.