Cre. I'll make it else great Andrew Mahomet,
Imperious Andrew Mahomet Credulous—
Tell me which name sounds best.
Hear. That's as you speak 'em.
Cre. Oatmealman Andrew! Andrew Oatmealman.
Hear. Ottoman, sir, you mean.
Cre. Yes, Ottoman.
Then, Mistress Jane, Sir Thomas Bitefig's daughter,
That may be the She-Great-Turk, if she please me.
Slicer. The sign o' th' half-moon, that hangs at your door
Is not for nought.
Cre. That's the Turk's arms, they say;
The empire's destin'd to our house directly.
Hang shop-books; give us some wine! Hey for a noise[203]
Of fiddlers now!
Hear. The Great Turk loves no music.
Cre. Does he not so? Nor I. I'll light tobacco
With my sum-totals; my debt-books shall sole[204]
Pies at young Andrew's wedding; cry you mercy,
I would say, gentlemen, the Great Turk's wedding.
My deeds shall be slic'd out in tailors' measures;
They all employed in making Mistress Mahomet
New gowns against the time. Hang dirty wealth!
Slicer. What should the Great Turk's father do with wealth?