Lod. In England, sir,—troth, I ever laugh when I think on’t: to see a whole nation should be marked i’th’ forehead, as a man may say, with one iron: why, sir, there all costermongers are Irishmen.
Car. Oh, that’s to show their antiquity, as coming from Eve, who was an apple-wife, and they take after the mother.
Ast., Ber., &c. Good, good! ha, ha!
Lod. Why, then, should all your chimney-sweepers likewise be Irishmen? answer that now; come, your wit.
Car. Faith, that’s soon answered, for St. Patrick, you know, keeps purgatory; he makes the fire, and his countrymen could do nothing, if they cannot sweep the chimneys.
Ast., Ber., &c. Good again.
Lod. Then, sir, have you many of them, like this fellow, especially those of his hair, footmen to noblemen and others,[232] and the knaves are very faithful where they love. By my faith, very proper men many of them, and as active as the clouds,—whirr, hah!
Ast., Ber., &c. Are they so?
Lod. And stout! exceeding stout; why, I warrant, this precious wild villain, if he were put to’t, would fight more desperately than sixteen Dunkirks.[233]