Mrs. Over. I pray you, have a better care of that, brother.
Cokes. Nay, so I will, I warrant you; let him catch this that catch can. I would fain see him get this, look you here.
Waspe. So, so, so, so, so, so, so, so! very good.
Cokes. I would have him come again now, and but offer at it. Sister, will you take notice of a good jest? I will put it just where the other was, and if we have good luck, you shall see a delicate fine trap to catch the cut-purse nibbling.
Edg. Faith, and he’ll try ere you be out o’ the Fair. [Aside.
Cokes. Come, mistress Grace, prithee be not melancholy for my mischance; sorrow will not keep it, sweet-heart.
Grace. I do not think on’t, sir.
Cokes. ’Twas but a little scurvy white money, hang it! it may hang the cut-purse one day. I have gold left to give thee a fairing yet, as hard as the world goes. Nothing angers me but that no body here look’d like a cut-purse, unless ’twere Numps.
Waspe. How! I, I look like a cut-purse? death! your sister’s a cut-purse! and your mother and father, and all your kin were cut-purses! and here is a rogue is the bawd o’ the cut-purses, whom I will beat to begin with.
[They speak all together; and Waspe beats Overdo.