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 a**ure 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 a**ure 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.