Winw. Alas, I am quite off that scent now.
Quar. How so?
Winw. Put off by a brother of Banbury, one that, they say, is come here, and governs all already.
Quar. What do you call him? I knew divers of those Banburians when I was in Oxford.
Winw. Master Littlewit can tell us.
Lit. Sir!—Good Win go in, and if master Bartholomew Cokes, his man, come for the license, (the little old fellow,) let him speak with me. [Exit Mrs. Littlewit.]—What say you, gentlemen?
Winw. What call you the reverend elder you told me of, your Banbury man?
Lit. Rabbi Busy, sir; he is more than an elder, he is a prophet, sir.
Quar. O, I know him! a baker, is he not?
Lit. He was a baker, sir, but he does dream now, and see visions; he has given over his trade.