Dodger. Besides, his grace to-day dines with the mayor;
Who on his knees humbly intends to fall
And beg a pardon for your nephew’s fault.
Lincoln. But I’ll prevent him! Come, Sir Roger Oateley;
The king will do us justice in this cause.
Howe’er their hands have made them man and wife,
I will disjoin the match, or lose my life. [Exeunt.
Firk. Adieu, Monsieur Dodger! Farewell, fools! Ha, ha! Oh, if they had stayed, I would have so lambed[102] them with flouts! O heart, my codpiece-point is ready to fly in pieces every time I think upon Mistress Rose; but let that pass, as my lady mayoress says.
Hodge. This matter is answered. Come, Ralph; home with thy wife. Come, my fine shoemakers, let’s to our master’s, the new lord mayor, and there swagger this Shrove-Tuesday. I’ll promise you wine enough, for Madge keeps the cellar.
All. O rare! Madge is a good wench.
Firk. And I’ll promise you meat enough, for simp’ring Susan keeps the larder. I’ll lead you to victuals, my brave soldiers; follow your captain. O brave! Hark, hark! [Bell rings.
All. The pancake-bell rings, the pancake-bell! Tri-lill, my hearts!
Firk. Oh brave! Oh sweet bell! O delicate pancakes! Open the doors, my hearts, and shut up the windows! keep in the house, let out the pancakes! Oh rare, my hearts! Let’s march together for the honour of Saint Hugh to the great new hall[103] in Gracious Street-corner, which our master, the new lord mayor, hath built.
Ralph. O the crew of good fellows that will dine at my lord mayor’s cost to-day!