Jack, Hilts.
Jac.
Yonder's another Wedding, Master Basket,
Brought in by Vicar Hugh.
Hil.
What are they, Jack?
Jac.
The High Constable's Man, Ball Hanny; and
Mrs. Wispes,
Our Ladies Woman. Hil. And are the Table merry?
Jac.
There's a young Tile-maker makes all laugh;
He will not eat his Meat, but crys at th' Board,
He shall be hang'd.
Hil.
He has lost his Wench already:
As good be hang'd.
Jac.
Was she that is Pol-martin,
Our Fellows Mistris, wench to that Sneak-John?
Hil.
I faith, Black Jack, he should have been her Bride-
groom:
But I must go to wait o' my Wise Masters.
Jack, you shall wait on me, and see the Mask anon:
I am half Lord Chamberlain i' my Master's absence.
Jac.
Shall we have a Mask? Who makes it?
Hil.
In-and-In.
The Master of Islington: Come, go with me
To the sage Sentences of Finsbury.