Wel. Adue dear Domine. Half a dozen such in a Kingdom would make a man forswear confession: for who that had but half his wits about him, would commit the Counsel of a serious sin to such a cruel Night-cap? Why how now shall we have an Antick? [Enter Servant. Whose head do you carry upon your shoulders, that you jole it so against the Post? Is't for your ease? Or have you seen the Celler? Where are my slippers Sir?
Ser. Here Sir.
Wel. Where Sir? have you got the pot Verdugo? have you seen the Horses Sir?
Ser. Yes Sir.
Wel. Have they any meat?
Ser. Faith Sir, they have a kind of wholesome Rushes, Hay I cannot call it.
Wel. And no Provender?
Ser. Sir, so I take it.
Wel. You are merry Sir, and why so?
Ser. Faith Sir, here are no Oats to be got, unless you'l have 'em in Porredge: the people are so mainly given to spoon-meat: yonder's a cast of Coach-mares of the Gentlewomans, the strangest Cattel.