Hol. My godfather, sir.
Coc. Good boy: hold up thy chops. I pray thee do one thing for me: my name is Gudgeon.
Hol. Good Master Gudgeon.
Coc. Lend me thy basin, razor, and apron.
Hol. O Lord, sir![36]
Coc. Well spoken; good English. But what’s thy furniture worth?
Hol. O Lord, sir, I know not. 200
Coc. Well spoken; a boy of a good wit: hold this pawn; where dost dwell?
Hol. At the sign of the Three Razors, sir.
Coc. A sign of good shaving, my catastrophonical fine boy. I have an odd jest to trim Master Mulligrub, for a wager; a jest, boy; a humour. I’ll return thy things presently. Hold!