Ben Jonson - Bartholomew Fayre Act 4. Scene 5 lyrics

John, Win, Ursla, Knockhum, Whit, Overdoo, Alice. Good Ga'mere Urs, Win and I are exceedingly be- holden to you, and to Captain Jordan, and Cap- tain Whit. Win, I'll be bold to leave you, i' this good Company, VVin; for half an hour, or so VVin, while I go, and see how my matter goes forward, and if the Puppets be perfect; and then I'll come and fetch you, VVin. VVin. Will you leave me alone with two Men, John? Joh. I, they are honest Gentlemen VVin, Captain Jor- dan, and Captain VVhit, they'll use you very civilly, VVin. God b' w' you VVin. Urs. What's her Husband gone? Kno. On his false gallop, Urs, away. Urs. An' you be right Bartholmew-birds, now shew your selves so: we are undone for want of Fowl i' the Fair, here. Here will be Zekiel Edgworth, and three or four Gallants with him at night, and I ha' neither Plo- ver nor Quail for 'em: perswade this between you two, to become a Bird o' the Game, while I work the Velvet Woman within, (as you call her.) Kno. I conceive thee, Urs! go thy ways, dost thou hear, Whit? is't not pitty, my delicate dark chestnut here, with the fine lean Head, large Fore-head, round Eyes, even Mouth, sharp Ears, long Neck, thin Crest, close Withers, plain Back, deep Sides, short Fillets, and full Flanks: with a round Belly, a plump bu*tock, large Thighs, knit Knees, strait Legs, short Pasterns, smooth Hoofs, and short Heels, should lead a dull honest Wo- mans life, that might live the life of a Lady? Whi. Yes, by my fait and trot, it is, Captain: de ho- nesht Womans life is a scurvy dull life, indeed, la. Win. How, Sir? is an honest Womans life a scurvy life? Whi. Yes fait, shweet heart, believe him, de leef of a Bond-woman! but if dou vilt harken to me, I vill make tee a Free-woman, and a Lady: dou shalt live like a La- dy, as te Captain saish. Kno. I, and be honest too sometimes: have her Wi- ers, and her Tires, her green Gowns, and Velvet Pet- ticoats. Whi. I, and ride to Ware and Rumford i' dy Coash, shee de Players, be in love vit 'em; sup vit gallantsh, be drunk, and cost de noting. Kno. Brave Vapours! Whi. And lie by twenty on 'em, if dou pleash shweet heart. Win. What, and be honest still, that were fine sport. Whi. Tish common, shweet heart, tou mai'st do it by my Hand: it shall be justified to ty Husbands Faish, now: tou shalt be as honesht as the Skin between his Hornsh, la! Kno. Yes, and wear a Dressing, top, and top-gallant, to compare with ere a Husband on 'em all, for a Fore- top: it is the Vapour of Spirit in the Wife to Cuckold now adays; as it is the Vapour of fashion in the Hus- band, not to suspect. Your prying Cat-eyed-Citizen is an abominable Vapour. Win. Lord, what a Fool have I been! Whi. Mend then, and do every ting like a Lady, here- after, never know thy Husband from another Man. Kno. Nor any one Man from another, but i' the dark. Whi. I, and then it ish no dishgrash to know any Man. Urs. Help, help here. Kno. How now? what Vapour's there? Urs. O, you are a sweet Ranger! and look well to your Walks. Yonder is your Punk of Turnbull, ramping Alice, has faln upon the poor Gentlewoman within, and pull'd her Hood over her Ears, and her Hair through it. [Alice enters, beating the Justice's Wife. Ove. Help, help, i' the King's Name. Ali. A mischief on you, they are such as you are, that undo us, and take our Trade from us, with your Tuft- taffata Hanches. Kno. How now Alice! Ali. The poor common who*es can ha' no Traffick, for the privy rich ones; your Caps and Hoods of Vel- vet, call away our Customers, and lick the Fat from us. Urs. Peace you foul ramping Jade, you —— Ali. Od's foot, you Bawd in greace, are you talking? Kno. Why, Kno. Why, Alice, I say. Ali. Thou Sow of Smithfield, thou. Urs. Thou Tripe of Turnbull. Kno. Cat-a-mountain Vapours! ha! Urs. You know where you were taw'd lately, both lash'd, and flash'd you were in Bridewell. Ali. I, by the same token you rid that week, and broak out the bottom o' the Cart, Night-tub. Kno. Why, Lyon face! ha! do you know who I am? shall I tear Ruff, slit Wastcoat, make Rags of Petticoat? ha! go to, vanish for fear of Vapours. Whit, a kick, Whit, in the parting Vapour. Come brave Woman, take a good Heart, thou shalt be a Lady too. Whi. Yes fait, dey shall all both be Ladies, and write Madam. I vill do't my self for dem. Do, is the vord, and D is the middle Letter of Maddam, D D, put 'em together, and make Deeds, without which all words are alike, la. Kno. 'Tis true, Ursla, take 'em in, open thy Wardrope, and fit 'em to their calling. Green Gowns, Crimson- Petticoats, Green-Women! my Lord Mayors Green Wo- men! Guests o' the Game, true bred. I'll provide you a Coach, to take the Air, in. Win. But do you think you can get one? Kno. O, they are as common as Wheelbarrows, where there are great Dunghils. Every Pettifoggers Wife, has 'em, for first he buys a Coach, that he may marry, and then he marries that he may be made Cuc- kold in't: For if their Wives ride not to their Cuckold- ing, they do 'em no credit. Hide, and be hidden; ride, and be ridden, says the Vapour of experience.