Bud. I will, I will; I'll mend her with sugar-nails and a Naples biscuit-hammer. But is there no way to persuade her to live still a woman? I would be loth to carry my wife at my back, and have one with three legs.
Ditty. If you make haste, you may chance to come before she is quite changed; you may save a leg, perhaps, or an arm of flesh yet; but I believe the most part of her is brass already.
Bud. Good Ditty, go along with me; if she be a pot before I come, I'll weep it full of tears, and then be boiled to death in't. [Exeunt.
SCENE XI.
Enter Gum with the Tinker's budget and Ballad-man's box.
Any old pots or kettles to mend? Will you buy my ballads? or have you any corns on your feet-toes? Nay, I am Jack-of-all-trades now. Three is a perfect number, and so many I have. Nay, Master Tinker, you kicked me to-day; but since you are so light of your heels, I'll make you walk after your budget before you have it. 'T shall be in trouble presently, not to be delivered without a fee. I'll drink as much ale on the kettle as will fill it; the rest o' th' tools shall go for jugs apiece; and then, Master Ditty, I will be merry with your ballads, too. They must be in lavender a little, and soak. If they will but yield me draughts apiece, I care not, and the box shall serve to score on. But stay, had I not better burn it, to bake the toasts and warm the ale? Hang't! 'tis but engaging the books twopence or a groat deeper, and have some three or four bundles of straws like faggots, and 'twill be a-la-mode.
Enter Bristle and Heath with bundles. Gum retires.
Bris. She'll say I am a pretty jewel to run away with her cabinet; but 'tis no matter. This box will make me flourish all the year long.
Gum. So, so; here are companions that will help drink the sea dry: mere gulfs or whirlpools, that suck in all that comes nigh 'um.
Bris. Come, Heath, open thy treasury. What's the first pearl?