Mul. Well, Cocledemoy, ’tis thou putt’st me to this charge; but, and I catch thee, I’ll charge thee with as many irons. Well, is the barber come? I’ll be trimm’d, and then to Cheapside to buy a fair piece of plate, to furnish the loss. Is the barber come?
Mistress Mul. Truth, husband, surely heaven is not pleased with our vocation. We do wink at the sins of our people. Our wines are protestants; and I speak
it to my grief, and to the burthen of my conscience, we fry our fish with salt butter. 12
Mul. Go, look to your business; mend the matter, and score false with a vengeance.
[Exit Mistress Mulligrub.
Enter Cocledemoy like a barber..
Welcome, friend, whose man?
Coc. Widow Reinscure’s man; and shall please your good worship, my name’s Andrew Shark.
Mul. How does my godson, good Andrew?
Coc. Very well, he’s gone to trim Master Quicquid, our parson. Hold up your head. 20