Ben Jonson - Bartholomew Fayre Act 3. Scene 1 lyrics

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 a**ure 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.