Sir Sig. Why, Sir, this most Reverend and Renowned Antiquary has been showing us Monumental Rarities and Antiquities.
Gal. ‘Tis Petro, that Rogue.
Fil. But what Folio have you gotten there, Sir, Knox, or Cartwright?
Pet. Nay, if he be got into that heap of Nonsense, I’ll steal off and undress. [Aside.] [Ex. Petro.
[Tick, opening the Book.
Tick. A small Volume, Sir, into which I transcribe the most memorable and remarkable Transactions of the Day.
Lau. That doubtless must be worth seeing.
Fil. [Reads.]—April the twentieth, arose a very great Storm of Wind, Thunder, Lightning and Rain,—which was a shrewd sign of foul Weather. The 22th 9 of our 12 Chickens getting loose, flew overboard, the other three miraculously escaping, by being eaten by me that Morning for Breakfast.
Sir Sig. Harkye, Galliard—thou art my Friend, and ‘tis not like a Man of Honour to conceal any thing from one’s Friend,—know then I am The most fortunate Rascal that ever broke bread,—I am this night to visit, Sirrah,—the finest, the most delicious young Harlot, Mum—under the Rose—in all Rome, of Barberacho’s acquaintance.
Gal.—Hah—my Woman, on my Life! and will she be kind?