Ben Jonson
Bartholomew Fayre Act 3. Scene 1
VVhit, Haggise, Bristle, Leather-head, Trash.

NAY, tish all gone, now! dish tish, phen tou
vilt not be phitin call, Master Offisher, phat ish
a man te better to lishen out noyshes for tee, and tou
art in an oder 'orld, being very shuffishient noyshes
and gallantsh too, one o' their brabblesh would have
fed ush all dish fortnight, but tou art so bushy about
beggersh still, tou hast no leshure to intend shentlemen,
and't be.

Hag.
Why, I told you, Davy Bristle.

Cri.
Come, come, you told me a Pudding, Toby
Haggise; A matter of nothing; I am sure it came to
nothing! You said, let's go to Ursla's indeed; but then
you met the man with the Monsters, and I could not
get you from him. An Old Fool, not leave seeing
yet?

Hag.
Why, who would ha' thought any body would
ha' quarrell'd so early? or that the Ale o' the Fair would
ha' been up so soon.

Whi.
Phy? phat a Clock toest tou tink it ish
man?

Hag.
I cannot tell.

VVhi.
Tou art a Vish Vatchman, i'te mean teem.

Hag.
Why? should the Watch go by the Clock, or
the Clock by the Watch, I pray?

Bri.
One should go by another, if they did well.

VVhi.
Tou art right now! phen didst tou ever know
or hear of a shuffishient Vatchman, but he did tell the
Clock, phat bushiness soever he had?

Bri.
Nay, that's most true, a sufficient Watchman
knows what a Clock it is.

VVhi.
Shleeping or vaking! ash well as te Clock him-
shelf, or te Jack dat shtrikes him!

Bri.
Let's enquire of Master Leatherhead, or Jone Trash
here. Master Leatherhead, do you hear, Master Lea-
ther-head?

VVhi.
If it be a Ledderhead, tish a very tick Ledder-
head, tat sho mush noish vill not peirsh him.

Lea.
I have a little business now, good friends, do not
trouble me.

VVhi.
Phat? because o' ty wrought neet Cap,
and ty Phelvet Sherkin, Man? Phy? I have sheene
tee in ty Ledder Sherkin, e're now, Mashter o' de
Hobby-Horses, as bushy and as stately as tou sheem'st
to be.

Tra.
Why, what an' you have, Captain VVhit? He
has his choice of Jerkins, you may see by that, and his
Caps too, I assure you, when he pleases to be either sick
or imploy'd.

Lea.
God a mercy Jone, answer for me.

VVhi.
Away, be not sheen i' my Company, here be
Shentlemen, and men of Vorship.