John. Here hee is, now, purified, Mother.
Pure. O brother Busy! your helpe heere to edifie, and raise us up in a Scruple, my daughter Win the fight is visited with a naturall disease of women; call'd A longing to eate Pigge.
John. I, Sir, a Bartholomew[80] pigge; and in the Fayre.
Pure. And I would be satisfied from you, Religiously-wise, whether a widdow of the sanctified assembly, or a widdowes daughter, may commit the act, without offence to the weaker sisters.
Busy. Verily, for the disease of longing, it is a disease, a carnall disease, or appetite, incident to women: and as it is carnall, and incident, it is naturall, very naturall: Now Pigge, it is a meat, and a meat that is nourishing, and may be long'd for, and so consequently eaten; it may be eaten; very exceeding well eaten; but in the Fayre, and as a Bartholomew-pig it can not be eaten, for the very calling it a Bartholomew-pigge, and to eate it so, is a spice of Idolatry, and you make the Fayre no better than one of the high Places. This, I take it is the state of the question. A high place.
John. I, but in a state of necessity, Place should give place Mr Busy. (I have a conceit left, yet)
Pure. Good brother Zeale of the land, thinke to make it as lawfull as you can.
John. Yes, Sir, and as soone as you can; for it must be, Sir; you see the danger my little wife is in Sir.
Pure. Truely, I doe love my child dearely, and I would not have her miscarry or hazard her first fruites if it might be otherwise.