Sil. Farewel, I am for the Captain. [Exit.
Far. Now to this matter again my honest fellows,
For if this goe not forward, I foresee friends,
This war will fright our neighbors out o' th' villages;
Cheer up your hearts, we shall hear better news, boys.
Hob. Surely I will dance no more, 'tis most ridiculous,
I find my wives instructions now mere verities,
My learned wives, she often hath pronounc'd to me
My safety Bomby, defie these sports, thou art damn'd else,
This Beast of Babylon, I will never back again,
His pace is sure prophane, and his lewd Wi-hees,
The Sons of Hymyn and Gymyn, in the wilderness.
Far. Fie neighbor Bomby, in your fits again,
Your zeal sweats, this is not careful, neighbor,
The Hobby-horse, is a seemly Hobby-horse.
Soto. And as pretty a beast on's inches, though I say it.
Hob. The Beast is an unseemly, and a lewd Beast,
And got at Rome by the Popes Coach-Horses,
His mother was the Mare of ignorance.
Soto. Cobler thou ly'st, and thou wert a thousand Coblers.
His mother was an honest Mare, and a Mare of good credit,
I know the Mare, and if need be, can bring witness;
And in the way of honesty I tell thee,
Scorn'd any Coach-Horse the Pope had: thou art foolish,
And thy blind zeal makes thee abuse the Beast.
Hob. I do defie thee, and thy foot-cloth too,
And tell thee to thy face, this prophane riding
I feel it in my conscience, and I dare speak it,
This un-edified ambling, hath brought a scourge upon us,
This Hobby-horse sincerity we liv'd in
War, and the sword of slaughter: I renounce it,
And put the beast off; thus, the beast polluted,
And now no more shall hop on high Bomby,
Follow the painted pipes of high pleasures,
And with the wicked, dance the devils measures;
Away thou pamper'd jade of vanity,
Stand at the Livery of lewd delights now,
And eat the provinder of prick-ear'd folly,
My dance shall be to the pipe of persecution.
Far. Will you daunce no more neighbor?
Hob. Surely no,
Carry the Beast to his Crib: I have renounc'd him
And all his works.