Over. It doth discover enormity, I’ll mark it more: I have not liked a paltry piece of poetry so well a good while. [Aside.
Cokes. Youth, youth, etc.; where’s this youth now? a man must call upon him for his own good, and yet he will not appear. Look here, here’s for him; [shews his purse.] handy dandy, which hand will he have? On, I pray thee, with the rest; I do hear of him, but I cannot see him, this master youth, the cut-purse.
Night. At plays, and at sermons, and at the sessions,
’Tis daily their practice such booty to make.
Yea under the gallows at executions,
They stick not the stare-abouts’ purses to take.
Nay one without grace,
At a [far] better place,
At court, and in Christmas, before the king’s face.
Cokes. That was a fine fellow! I would have him now.