Gum. These ale-suckers, too, are a-going to liquor some prize that their lime-twig fingers have seized upon.
Heath. A pair of silver-handled knives. These, I believe, she made when she lived with my Lady May'ress. Next, a pair of white gloves; these she had at the funeral of a dear friend, for whose sake she meant to be buried in 'um herself; and how would Cerberus take it, to see one come to hell with a dog-skin pair of gloves? A silken garter! This, I warrant it, she had at a wedding, and intended to bestow it on her own bridemaid. Then a pair of scissors——
Gum. Sure, these villains have robbed an haberdasher, and stole a box of small-ware. [Aside.
Heath sings.
Come out to the light,
Than which thou'rt more bright:
This box thee no longer shall harbour.
'Tis thou that hast made
Me o' th' triple trade—
A tailor, a sempster, a barber.
With thee I will shave
The barbarian slave,
And trim up the youngsters of Poland,
Make a jump of Aleppo,
Of Friesland a[nd] Joppo,
And a stately brave shirt of Holland.
Gum. [Coming forward.] Well sung of a woodcock. Come, thou must go have thy pipe tuned at mine host Welcome's; thou art like the glass pipe, that will never whistle but when there's water in't.
Heath. Ho, ho! What, furniture for a whole fair upon thy back at once? Dressed up just like the wooden boys on haberdashers' stalls.
Bris. Three strings to thy bow at once? Sure, thou canst not break when thou hast such a triple cord to hold thee.
Gum. A single one, I believe, would spoil your drinking; 'twould tie up your guzzle.
Bris. But how dar'st thou walk abroad before owl-light? Dost think there's no birds stirring still that will spy out these feathers? Come, off with thy box of poetry, the Muses' warehouse, Calliope's Cabinet. 'Tis ominous to have the string about thy neck. If thou art taken with 'um, thou may'st be condemned to make as many wry mouths as the squeaking owner did, when he last strained and vomited 'um out at Smithfield or Pye Corner.