Player. Methinks the end of this stave is a foot too long.
Had. O no, sing it but in tune, and I dare warrant you.
Player. Why, hear ye.
[He sings.
And you that delight in trulls and minions,
Come buy my four ropes of hard St Thomas's onions.[370]
Look ye there, St Thomas might very well have been left out; besides, hard should have come next the onions.
Had. Fie! no; the dismembering of a rhyme to bring in reason shows the more efficacy in the writer.
Player. Well, as you please; I pray you, sir, what will the gratuity be? I would content you as near hand as I could.
Had. So I believe. [Aside.] Why, Master Change-coat, I do not suppose we shall differ many pounds; pray, make your offer: if you give me too much, I will, most doctor-of-physic-like, restore.
Player. You say well; look you, sir, there's a brace of angels, besides much drink of free-cost, if it be liked.
Had. How, Master Change-coat! a brace of angels, besides much drink of free-cost, if it be liked! I fear you have learned it by heart; if you have powdered up my plot in your sconce, you may home, sir, and instruct your poet over a pot of ale the whole method on't. But if you do so juggle, look to't. Shrove-Tuesday[371] is at hand, and I have some acquaintance with bricklayers and plasterers.