Lit. Good ga’mere Urse, Win and I are exceedingly beholden to you, and to captain Jordan, and captain Whit.—Win, I’ll be bold to leave you, in this good company, Win; for half an hour or so, Win; while I go and see how my matter goes forward, and if the puppets be perfect; and then I’ll come and fetch you, Win.
Mrs. Lit. Will you leave me alone with two men, John?
Lit. Ay, they are honest gentlemen, Win, captain Jordan and captain Whit; they’ll use you very civilly, Win. God be wi’ you, Win.
[Exit.
Urs. What, is her husband gone?
Knock. On his false gallop, Urse, away.
Urs. An you be right Bartholomew birds, now show yourselves so: we are undone for want of fowl in the Fair, here. Here will be Zekiel Edgworth, and three or four gallants with him at night, and I have neither plover nor quail for them: persuade this between you two, to become a bird o’ the game, while I work the velvet woman within, as you call her.
Knock. I conceive thee, Urse: go thy ways. [Exit Ursula.]—Dost thou hear, Whit? is’t not pity, my delicate dark chestnut here, with the fine lean head, large forehead, 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 buttock, large thighs, knit knees, strait legs, short pasterns, smooth hoofs, and short heels, should lead a dull honest woman’s life, that might live the life of a lady?
Whit. Yes, by my fait and trot it is, captain; de honest woman’s life is a scurvy dull life indeed, la.
Mrs. Lit. How, sir, is an honest woman’s life a scurvy life?