Over. I am glad to hear my name is their terror yet, this is doing of justice. [Aside.]
[A number of people pass over the stage.
Leath. What do you lack? what is’t you buy? what do you lack? rattles, drums, halberts, horses, babies o’ the best, fiddles of the finest?
Enter Costard-monger, followed by NIGHTINGALE.
Cost. Buy any pears, pears, fine, very fine pears!
Trash. Buy any gingerbread, gilt gingerbread!
Night. Hey, [Sings.
Now the Fair’s a filling!
O, for a tune to startle
The birds o’ the booths here billing,