Enter Budget, Ditty, Gum.
Ditty. Pox o' thy ugly face! ca'st not sing but thou must cry too? Look, there she is; good Gum, hold my shop a little.
Bud. And mine too.
Gum. Now do I look like one of the pillars in the Exchange. [Exit.
Bud. Sweet lady, smile on me.
Curds. [Aside.] Hissing adders!
Bud. Now merrily:
For if thou frown on me,
Sure I shall die.
Both. Sure I shall die, &c.
Curds. Croaking toads.
Bud. Thy eyes, like a cockatrice,
Kill with a look:
They shine like the sun,
I'd swear on a book.
Curds. Away, screech-owls!