To. Some Jew, some Justice,
A thousand heathen smels to say truth Madam,
And would you mellow my young pretty Mistriss
In such a mis-ken?
La. Sirra,
Where's the body of my Girl?
Wi. I know not,
I am no Conjurer, you may look the body,
I was like to be stol'n away my self, the Spirit
Had like to ha surpris'd me in the shape of a woman,
Of a young woman, and you know those are dangerous.
To. So had I Madam, simply though I stand here,
I had been ravish'd too: I had twenty Spirits,
In every corner of the house a Fiend met me.
La. You lye like Raskals,
Was Mistriss Newlove such a spirit Sir?
To fright your worship;
Well, I discharge you Sir, y'are now at liberty,
Live where you please, and do what pranks you fancy,
You know your substance: though you are my Nephew,
I am no way bound Sir to protect your mischief;
So fare you well.
Wi. Farewell good Aunt, I thank you,
Adiew honest Nick, the devil if he have power,
Will persecute your old bones, for this Marriage,
Farewell Mistress Win.
To. And shall we part with dry lips?
Shall we that have been fellow devils together
Flinch for an old womans fart?
Wi. 'Tis a fine time a night too, but we must part Nick.
To. Shall we never ring again? ne'r toss the tenor,
And roul the changes [in] a Cup of Clarret?
You shall not want what ere I lay my hands on,
As I am sure Automedon the Coachman,
Shall be distributed; bear up, I say, hang sorrow,
Give me that bird abroad that lives at pleasure,
Sam the Butler's true, the Cook a reverend Trojan,
The Faulkner shall sell his Hawks, and swear they were rotten,
There be some wandring spoons, that may be met with,
I'll pawn a Coach horse, peace, utter no sentences.
The har[nesse] shall be us'd in our wars also;
Or shall I drive her (tell me but your will now,
Say but the word) over some rotten bridg,
Or by a Marl-pit side, she may slip in daintily,
Let me alone for my self.
Wi. No, no, farewell Toby,
Farewell spiny Nicholas, no such thing,
There be ways i'the world, if you see me
A day or two hence, may be wee'l crack a quart yet,
And pull a bell, commend to the houshold;
Nay, cry not Toby, 'twill make thy head giddy.