Quar. Yes, sir; but you’ll pardon us if we knew not of so much familiarity between us afore.
Knock. As what, sir?
Quar. To be so lightly invited to smoke and froth.
Knock. A good vapour! will you sit down, sir? this is old Ursula’s mansion; how like you her bower? Here you may have your punk and your pig in state, sir, both piping hot.
Quar. I had rather have my punk cold, sir.
Over. There’s for me: punk! and pig! [Aside.
Urs. [within.] What, Mooncalf, you rogue!
Moon. By and by, the bottle is almost off, mistress; here, master Arthur.
Urs. [within.] I’ll part you and your play-fellow there, in the garded coat, an you sunder not the sooner.
Knock. Master Winwife, you are proud, methinks, you do not talk, nor drink; are you proud?