4COme, Masters, I think it be past five a clock,

5Is it not time we were at work?

6My old Master he'll be stirring anon.

71. I cannot tell whether my old Master will

8be stirring or no: but I am sure I can hardly take my

9afternoon's nap, for my young Master Thomas,

10He keeps such a quile in his studie,

11With the Sun, and the Moon, and the seven Starres,

12That I do verily think he'll read out his wits.

13Hodge. He skill of the starres? there's good-man Car

14 of Fulham,

15He that carried us to the strong Ale, where goody Trundel

16Had her maid got with child: O, he knows the Starres,

17He'll tickle you Charles Wain in nine degrees:

18That same man will tell goody Trundel

19When here Ale shall miscarry, only by the starres.

202. I, that's a great virtue indeed, I think Thomas

21Be no body in comparison to him.

221. Well, Masters, come, shall we to our Hammers?

23Hod. I, content; first let's take our mornings draught,

24And then to work roundly.