4 Oliver. SIrra Raphe, my young Mistris is in such a pit-

5tifull passionate humour for the long absence

6of her Love.

7 Raphe. Why can you blame her, why, Ap-

8ples hanging longer on the tree then when they are ripe,

9makes so many falling, viz. Mad wenches because they are

10not gathered in time, are fain to drop of themselves, and

11then 'tis common you know for every man to take them

12up.

13 Oliver. Masse thou saist true, 'tis common indeed, but

14sirrah, is neither our young Master returned, nor our fel-

15low Sam come from London?

16 Raphe. Neither of either, as the Puritan Bawd sayes.

17'Slid I hear Sam, Sam's come, here tarry, come ifaith,

18now my nose itches for news.

19 Oliv. And so doth mine elbow.

21 Sam. Boy, look you walk my horse with discretion,

22I have rid him simply, I warrant his skin sticks to his

23back with very heat, if he should catch cold and get the

24cough of the lungs, I were well served, were I not? What

25Raph and Oliver.

26 Am. Honest fellow Sam, welcome ifaith, what tricks

27hast thou brought from London?

29 Sam. You see I am hang'd after the truest fashion,

30three Hats, and two Glasses bobbing upon them, two re-

31bato wyers upon my brest, a Capcase by my side, a Brush

32at my back, an Almanack in my pocket, and three Bal-

33lats in my codpiece, nay I am the true picture of a com-

34mon servingman.

35 Oliv. I'le swear thou art, thou maist set up when thou

36wilt, there's many a one begins with lesse I can tell thee,

37that proves a rich man ere he dies, but what's the news

38from London, Sam?

39 Raph. I that's well sed, what is the news from London,

40sirrah. My young Mistris keeps such a puling for her

41Love.

42 Sam. Why the more fool she, I, the more ninny-ham-

43mer she.

44 Oliv. Why Sam, why?

45 Sam. Why, he is married to another, long ago.

46 Amb. Faith ye jest.

47 Sam. Why, did you not know that till now? Why

48he's married, beats his wife, and has two or three chil-

49dren by her: for you must note, that any woman bears

50the more when she is beaten.

51 Raphe. I that's true, for she bears the blows.

52 Oliv. Sirrah Sam, I would not for two years wages

53my young Mistris knew so much, she'd run upon the left

54hand of her wit, and nere be her own woman again.

55 Sam. And I think she was blest in her Cradle, that

56he never came in her bed, why he has consumed all,

57pawn'd his Lands, and made his University Brother

58stand in wax for him; There's a fine phrase for a Scrive-

59ner, puh, he ows more then his skin is worth.

60 Oliver. Is't possible?

61 Sam. Nay, I'le tell you moreover, he calls his Wife

62whore, as familiarly as one would call Moll and Doll, and

63children bastards, as naturally as can be, but what have

64we here? I thought 'twas something pull'd down my

65Breeches: I quite forgot my two poting sticks, these came

66from London, now any thing is good here that comes from

67London.

68 Oliver.I, far fetcht you know.

69 Sam. But speak in your conscience ifaith, have not we

70as good poting sticks i'th' Country as need to be put i'th

71fire, the mind of a thing is all, and as thou said'st even

72now, far fetcht are the best things far Ladies.

73 Oliv. I, and for waiting gentlewomen too.

74 Sam. But Raphe, is our beer sower this thunder?

75 Raph. No, no, it holds countenance yet.

76 Sam. Why then follow me, I'le teach you the finest

77humour to be drunk in, I learn'd it at London last week.

78 Amb. Faith let's hear it, let's hear it.

79 Sam. The bravest humour, 'twould do a man good to

80be drunk in it, they call it knighting in London, when

81they drink upon their knees.

82 Amb. Faith that's excellent.

83Come follow me, I'le give you all the degrees of it in or-