Ped. Why that's it I come about sir,
'Tis a Divel of your raising must invent 'em,
I confess I am too weak to compass it.
Foro. So sir, then you make it a matter of no difficulty
To have them tolerated.
Pedant. Trouble not your self for that,
Let but your Divel set them a foot once.
I have Weavers, and Ginger-bread makers,
And mighty Aquavitæ-men, shall set them a going.
Foro. This is somewhat difficult,
And will aske some conference with the divell.
Ped. Take your own leasure sir,
I have another business too, because I mean
To leave Italy, and bury my self in those neather parts
Of the low countries.
Foro. What's that sir.
Ped. Marry I would fain make 9 dayes to the week,
for the more ample benefit of the captain.
Foro. You have a shrewd pate sir.
Ped. But how this might be compass'd?
Foro. Compass'd easily; tis but making
A new Almanack, and dividing the compass
Of the year into larger penny-worths,
As a Chandler with his compass makes
A Geometrick proportion of the Holland cheese
He retailes by stivers.
But for getting of it licenc'd?