Ben Jonson - Bartholomew Fayre Act 2. Scene 4 lyrics

To them.] Edgworth, Nightingale, Corn-cutter, Tinder-box- man, Pa**engers. That I will indeed, willingly, Master Knockhum, fetch some Ale, and Tabacco. Lea. What do you lack, Gentlemen? Maid, see a fine Hobby-horse for your young Master: cost you but a token a Week his Provender. Cor. Ha' you any Corns i' your Feet and Toes? Tin. Buy a Mouse-trap, a Mouse-trap, or a Tormen- tor for a Flea. Tra. Buy some Ginger-bread. Nig. Ballads, Ballads! fine new Ballads: Hear for your Love, and buy for your Money. A delicate Ballad o' the Ferret and the Coney. A preservative again' the Punques evil. Another of Goose-green-starch, and the Devil. A dozen of Divine Points, and the Godly Garters. The Fairing of good Counsel, of an Ell and three quar- ters. What is't you buy? The Wind-mill blown down by the Witches Fart! Or Saint George, that O! did break the Dragons Heart! Edg. Master Nightingale, come hither, leave your Mart a little. Nig. O my Secretary! what says my Secretary? Jus. Child o' the Bottles, what's he? what's he? Moo. A civil young Gentleman, Master Arthur, that keeps company with the Roarers, and disburses all still. He has ever Money in his Purse; He pays for them; and they roar for him: one do's good offices for another. They call him the Secretary, but he serves no body. A great Friend of the Ballad-mans, they are never asunder. Jus. What pitty 'tis, so civil a young Man should haunt this debaucht company? here's the bane of the youth of our time apparent. A proper pen-man, I see't in his countenance, he has a good Clerks look with him, and I warrant him a quick hand. Moo. A very quick hand, Sir. Edg. All the Purses, and purchase, I give you to day by conveyance, bring hither to Ursla's presently. Here we will meet at night in her Lodg, and share. Look you chuse good places for your standing i' the Fair, when you sing, Nightingale. [This they whisper, that Overdo hears it not. Urs. I, near the fullest pa**ages; and shift 'em often. Edg. And i' your singing, you must use your Hawks Eye nimbly, and fly the Purse to a mark, still, where 'tis worn, and o' which side; that you may gi' me the sign with your Beak, or hang your head that way i' the tune. Urs. Enough, talk no more on't: your friendship (Masters) is not now to begin. Drink your draught of Indenture, your sup of Covenant, and away, the Fair fills apace, company begins to come in, and I ha' ne'er a Pig ready yet. Kno. Well said! fill the Cups, and light the Tabacco: let's give fire i' th' Works, and noble Vapours. Edg. And shall we ha' Smocks Ursla, and good whim- sies, ha? Urs. Come, you are i' your bawdy vain! the best the Fair will afford, Zekiel, if Bawd Whit keep his word; how do the Pigs, Moon-calf? Moo. Very pa**ionate, Mistris, on' on 'em has wept out an Eye. Master Arthur o'Bradley is melancholy, here, no body talks to him. Will you any Tabacco Master Arthur? Jus. No, Boy, let my meditations alone. Moo. He's studying for an Oration, now. Jus. If I can with this days travel, and all my policy, but rescue this youth here out of the hands of the lewd Man, and the strange Woman, I will sit down at night, and say with my Friend Ovid, Jamque opus exegi, quod nec Jovis ira, nec ignis, &c. Kno. Here Zekiel; here's a Health to Ursla, and a kind Vapour: thou hast Money i' thy Purse still, and store! how dost thou come by it? Pray thee Vapour thy Friends some in a courteous Vapour. Edg. Half I have, Master Dan. Knockhum, is always at your service. Jus. Ha, sweet nature! what Goshawk would prey upon such a Lamb? Kno. Let's see, what 'tis, Zekiel! count it, come, fill him to pledge me.