Foi. Fat, my cussen to the lady! upon my shoul, gra, dat is too much upon the brogue.
Arch. Come, come, doctor; consider we have got a rope about your neck, and if you offer to squeak, we 'll stop your windpipe, most certainly: we shall have another job for you in a day or two, I hope.
Aim. Here 's company coming this way; let's into my chamber, and there concert our affairs farther. [130]
Arch. Come, my dear cussen, come along. [Exeunt.
Enter Boniface, Hounslow, and Bagshot at one door, Gibbet at the opposite.
Gib. Well, gentlemen, 'tis a fine night for our enterprise.
Houn. Dark as hell.
Bag. And blows like the devil; our landlord here has showed us the window where we must break in, and tells us the plate stands in the wainscot cupboard in the parlour.
Bon. Ay, ay, Mr. Bagshot, as the saying is, knives and forks, and cups and cans, and tumblers and tankards. There's one tankard, as the saying is, that's near upon as big as me; it was a present to the squire from his godmother, and smells of nutmeg and toast like an East-India ship. [143]
Houn. Then you say we must divide at the stairhead?