Bruin. Why, I was never over fond of your May-games: besides corporations are too serious things; they are edgetools, sir Jacob.
Sir J. That they are frequently tools, I can readily grant: but I never heard much of their edge.
Afterwards we find the knight exclaiming—
Sir J. Hey-day! What, is the election over already?
Enter Crispin, Heeltap, &c.
Heel. Where is master Sneak!
Sneak. Here, Crispin.
Heel. The ancient corporation of Garratt, in consideration of your great parts and abilities, and out of respect to their landlord, sir Jacob, have unanimously chosen you mayor.
Sneak. Me? huzza! Good lord, who would have thought it? But how came master Primmer to lose it?
Heel. Why, Phil Fleam had told the electors, that master Primmer was an Irishman; and so they would none of them give their vote for a foreigner.