Cla. I lay my life a Tinker.
Crac. And in his parish of account.
Cla. A Scavenger.
Bel. Is it a badge of your profession To be uncivell?
Suc. Uncivell!
Noe; what is in other men uncivill
In us is resolution; therefore yeild:
I am invincible, flesh cannot stand
Before me.
Bel. It must be drunke then.
Cla. I am not ith humour now
To laugh, or else Ide not dismisse him yet.
Good Mr. Crackby, does your wisdome thinke
That I can love you?
Crac. My worth deserves it.
Cla. Well said, impudence.
Goe, get you home toth Cittie; goe solicitt
Some neighbors daughter; match with Nan your Schoolefellow
With whome you usd to walk to Pimblicoe[99]
To eate plumbe cakes and creame,—one of your parish,
Good what-doe-you-lack.
Crac. This is offensive to My reputation.