Quar. No, you were not best, he’d tell his mother, the widow.
Winw. Heart! what do you mean?
Quar. Cry you mercy, is the wind there? must not the widow be named?
[Exeunt.
Enter LITTLEWIT from URSULA’S booth, followed by Mrs. LITTLEWIT.
Lit. Do you hear, Win, Win?
Mrs. Lit. What say you, John?
Lit. While they are paying the reckoning, Win, I’ll tell you a thing, Win; we shall never see any sights in the Fair, Win, except you long still, Win: good Win, sweet Win, long to see some hobby-horses, and some drums, and rattles, and dogs, and fine devices, Win. The bull with the five legs, Win; and the great hog. Now you have begun with pig, you may long for any thing, Win, and so for my motion, Win.
Mrs. Lit. But we shall not eat of the bull and the hog, John; how shall I long then?