Puppy, Dido, Hugh.

Pup.
Stay, my dear Dido, and good Vicar Hugh,
We have a business with you: In short, this,
If you dare knit another pair of Strangers,
Dido, of Carthage, and her Countrey-man,
Stout Hannibal stands to't. I have ask'd consent,
And she hath granted.

Hug.
But saith Dido so?

Did.
From what Ball-Hanny hath said, I dare not go.

Hug.
Come in then, I'll dispatch you. A good
Supper
Would not be lost, good Company, good Discourse;
But above all, where Wit hath any source.