Ben Jonson - Bartholomew Fayre Act 5. Scene 1 lyrics

Lanthorn, Filcher, Sharkwel. WEll, Luck and Saint Bartholmew; out with the sign of our Invention, in the name of Wit, and do you beat the Drum the while; all the Fowl i' the Fair, I mean all the Dirt in Smithfield, (that's one of Ma- ster Little-wit's Carwhitchets now) will be thrown at our Banner to day, if the matter do's not please the Peo- ple. O the Motions, that I Lanthorn Leatherhead have Pod was a Master of Mo- tions before him. given light to, i' my time, since my Ma- ster Pod died! Jerusalem was a stately thing; and so was Ninive, and the City of Norwich, and Sodom and Gomorrah; with the rising o' the Prentises, and pul- ling down the Bawdy Houses there upon Shrove-Tues- day; but the Gunpowder-plot, there was a get-penny! I have presented that to an eighteen or twenty Pence Audience, nine times in an Afternoon. Your home- born Projects prove ever the best, they are so easie and familiar; they put too much Learning i' their things now o'days: and that I fear will be the spoil o' this. Little-wit? I say, Mickle-wit! if not too mickle! look to your gathering there, Goodman Filcher. Fil. I warrant you, Sir. Lan. And there come any Gentlefolks, take two Pence apiece, Sharkwell. Sha. I warrant you, Sir, three Pence, an' we can.