Mul. Why, but dost hear? Bellman, rogue, rascal! God’s—why, but—
[The Constables drag away Mulligrub.
Coc. Why, but! wha, ha, ha! excellent, excellent! ha, my fine Cocledemoy, my vintner fists. I’ll make him fart crackers before I ha’ done with him; to-morrow is the day of judgment. Afore the Lord God, my knavery grows unperegall;[90] ’tis time to take a nap, until half an hour hence. God give your worship music, content, and rest.
[Exit.
[88] So ed. 2.—Ed. 1. “let.”
[90] Unequalled.
ACT V.
SCENE I.
Franceschina’s lodging.