Bartholomew Fayre Act 1. Scene 4

VVaspe, John, VVin-wife, Quarlous.



By your leave, Gentlemen, with all my heart to

you: and God give you good morrow; Master

Little-wit, my business is to you. Is this License

ready?



Joh.

Here I ha' it for you in my hand, Master Hum-

phrey.



Was.

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 sav'd by my Book, i'faith I'll hang first; fold it

up o' your word, and gi' it me; what must you ha'

for't?



Joh.

We'll talk of that anon, Master Humphrey.



Was.

Now or not at all, good Mr. Proctor, I am for no

anon's, I assure you.



Joh.

Sweet Win, bid Solomon send me the little black

Box within in my Study.



Was.

I, quickly, good Mistris, I pray you: for I have

both Eggs o' the Spit, and Iron i' the Fire, say what you

must have, good Mr. Little-wit.



Joh.

Why, you know the price, Mr. Numps.



Was.

I know? I know nothing. I, what tell you

me of knowing? (now I am in haste) 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 ha' sav'd Two Pence

i' that, an' I had bought it my self, but here's Fourteen

Shillings for you. Good Lord! how long your little wife

stays! pray God Solomon, your Clerk, be not looking

i' the wrong Box, Mr. Proctor.



Joh.

Good i' faith! no, I warrant you, Solomon is wi-

ser than so, Sir.



Was.

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.



Win-w.

Do you hear? Jack Little-wit, what business

does thy pretty head think this Fellow may have, that he

keeps such a coyl with?



Quar.

More than buying of Ginger-bread i' the Cloy-

ster, here, (for that we allow him) or a guilt pouch i' the

Fair?



Joh.

Master Quarlous, do not mistake him: he is his

Master's Both-hands, I assure you.



Quar.

What? to pull on his Boots a Mornings, or his

Stockings, do's he?



Joh.

Sir, if you have a mind to mock him, mock him

softly, and look t'other way: for if he apprehend you

flout him once, he will fly at you presently. A terrible

testy old Fellow, and his Name is Waspe too.



Quar.

Pretty Insect! make much on him.



Was.

A Plague o' this Box, and the Pox too, and on

him that made it, and her that went for't, and all that

should ha' sought it, sent it, or brought it! do you see,

Sir?



Joh.

Nay, good Mr. Waspe.



VVas.

Good Master Hornet, turd i' your teeth, hold

you your tongue: do not I know you? Your Father was

a Pothecary, and sold Glisters, more than he gave, I wusse:

and turd i' your little Wives teeth too (here she comes),

'twill make her spit as fine as she is, for all her Velvet

Custard on her head, Sir.



Joh.

O! be civil, Master Numps.



VVas.

Why, say I have a Humour not to be civil; how

then? who shall compel me? you?



Joh.

Here is the Box now.



VVas.

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 ——



VVin-w.

With all our Hearts, Sir.



VVas.

That I have a charge, Gentlemen.



Joh.

They do apprehend, Sir.



VVas.

Pardon me, Sir, neither they nor you can ap-

prehend me yet. (You are an Ass) I have a Young Ma-

ster, he is now upon his making and marring; the whole

care of his well-doing, is now mine. His foolish School-

masters have done nothing, but run up and down the

Countrey with him to beg Puddings, and Cake-bread of

his Tenants, and almost spoiled him; he has learn'd

nothing but to sing Catches, and repeat Rattle Bladder,

rattle, and O, Madge. I dare not let him walk alone,

for fear of learning 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 fain now (for this little time I am absent) to leave

him in charge with a Gentlewoman:: 'Tis true, she is

a Justice of Peace his Wife, and a Gentlewoman o' the

Hood, and his Natural Sister: But what may happen

under a Womans Government, there's the doubt. Gen-

tlemen, you do not know him: he is another manner of

piece than you think for! but Nineteen years old, and

yet he is taller than either of you by the Head, God

bless him.



Quar.

Well, methinks this is a fine Fellow!



VVin-w.

He has made his Master a finer by this Descrip-

tion, I should think.



Quar.

'Faith, much about one, it's Cross and Pile,

whether for a New Farthing.



VVas.

I'll tell you, Gentlemen ——



Joh.

Will't please you drink, Master VVaspe?



VVas.

Why, I ha' not talk't so long to be dry, Sir;

you see no Dust or Cobwebs come out o' my Mouth:

do you? you'ld ha' me gone, would you?



Joh.

No, but you were in haste e'en now, Mr.

Numps.



Was.

What an' 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 o-

thers to talk to.



Joh.

She's my match indeed, and as little Wit as I,

Good!



VVas.

We ha' been but a day and a half in Town,

Gentlemen, 'tis true, and yesterday i' the Afternoon

we walk'd London, to shew the City to the Gentlewo-

man he shall marry, Mistris Grace; but afore I will en-

dure 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 staid him: he would name you all the

Signs over, as he went, aloud: and where he spi'd a

Parrat, or a Monkey, there he was pitch'd, with all the

little Long-Coats about him, Male and Female; no get-

ting him away! I thought he would ha' run mad o' the

black boy in Bucklers-bury, that takes the scurvy, roguy

Tabacco there.



Joh.

You say true, Master Numps: there's such a one

indeed.



VVas.

It's no matter whether there be or no, what's

that to you?



Quar.

He will not allow of John's reading at any

hand.