Clown. Amongst them? no; there's no woman, that's a true Christian, will horne her husband. There dyed to night no lesse than six and a halfe in our Iayle.
Epi. How? six and a halfe?
Clown. One was a girle of thirteene, with child.
Epi. Thy tidings fats me.
Clown. You may have one or two of 'em drest to your Dinner to make you more fat.
Epi. Unhallowed slave! let a Jew eate Pork, when I but touch a Christian.
Clown. You are not of my dyet: Would I had a young Loyne of Porke to my Supper, and two Loynes of a pretty sweate Christian after Supper.
Epi. Would thou mightst eate and choake.
Clown. Never at such meate; it goes downe without chawing.
Epi. We have a taske in hand, to kill a Serpent
Which spits her poyson in our kingdomes face.
And that we speake not of (?); lives still
That Witch Victoria, wife to Bellizarius?
Is Death afraid to touch the Hagge? does hunger
Tremble to gnaw her flesh off, dry up her blood
And make her eate her selfe in Curses, ha?