Hem. All shall be done to th' purpose: farewel hunts-man.
Enter Gerrard, Higgen, Prig, Ginks, Snap, Ferret.
Ger. Now, what's the news in town?
Ginks. No news, but joy Sir; Every man wooing of the noble Merchant, Who has his hearty commendations to ye.
Fer. Yes this is news, this night he's to be married.
Ginks. By th' mass that's true, he marrys Vandunks Daughter, The dainty black-ey'd bell.
Hig. I would my clapper Hung in his baldrick, a what a peal could I Ring?
Ger. Married?
Ginks. 'Tis very true Sir, O the pyes, The piping-hot mince-pyes!
Prig. O the Plum-pottage!