Over. I cannot beget a project, with all my political brain yet: my project is how to fetch off this proper young man from his debauched company. I have followed him all the Fair over, and still I find him with this songster, and I begin shrewdly to suspect their familiarity; and the young man of a terrible taint, poetry! with which idle disease if he be infected, there’s no hope of him, in a state-course. Actum est of him for a commonwealth’s-man, if he go to’t in rhyme once. [Aside.
Edg. [to Nightingale.] Yonder he is buying of gingerbread; set in quickly, before he part with too much of his money.
Night. [advancing and singing.] My masters, and friends, and good people, draw near—
Cokes. [runs to the ballad-man.] Ballads! hark! hark! pray thee, fellow, stay a little; good Numps, look to the goods. What ballads hast thou? let me see, let me see myself.
Waspe. Why so! he’s flown to another lime-bush, there he will flutter as long more; till he have ne’er a feather left. Is there a vexation like this, gentlemen? will you believe me now, hereafter, shall I have credit with you?
Quar. Yes, faith shalt thou, Numps, and thou art worthy on’t, for thou sweatest for’t. I never saw a young pimp-errant and his squire better match’d.
Winw. Faith, the sister comes after them well too.
Grace. Nay, if you saw the justice her husband, my guardian, you were fitted for the mess, he is such a wise one his way—
Winw. I wonder we see him not here.