Bartholomew Fayre Act 2. Scene 4 lyrics

by

Ben Jonson


To them.]

Edgworth, Nightingale, Corn-cutter, Tinder-box-
man, Passengers.


That I will indeed, willingly, Master Knockhum, fetch
some Ale, and Tabacco.

Lea.
What do you lack, Gentlemen? Maid, see a
fine Hobby-horse for your young Master: cost you but
a token a Week his Provender.

Cor.
Ha' you any Corns i' your Feet and Toes?

Tin.
Buy a Mouse-trap, a Mouse-trap, or a Tormen-
tor for a Flea.

Tra.
Buy some Ginger-bread.

Nig.
Ballads, Ballads! fine new Ballads:
Hear for your Love, and buy for your Money.
A delicate Ballad o' the
Ferret and the Coney.
A preservative again' the Punques evil.
Another of Goose-green-starch, and the Devil.
A dozen of Divine Points, and the Godly Garters.
The Fairing of good Counsel, of an Ell and three quar-
ters.
What is't you buy?
The Wind-mill blown down by the Witches Fart!
Or Saint George, that O! did break the Dragons Heart!
Edg. Master Nightingale, come hither, leave your
Mart a little.

Nig.
O my Secretary! what says my Secretary?

Jus.
Child o' the Bottles, what's he? what's he?

Moo.
A civil young Gentleman, Master Arthur, that
keeps company with the Roarers, and disburses all still.
He has ever Money in his Purse; He pays for them;
and they roar for him: one do's good offices for another.
They call him the Secretary, but he serves no body. A
great Friend of the Ballad-mans, they are never asunder.

Jus.
What pitty 'tis, so civil a young Man should
haunt this debaucht company? here's the bane of the
youth of our time apparent. A proper pen-man, I see't
in his countenance, he has a good Clerks look with him,
and I warrant him a quick hand.

Moo.
A very quick hand, Sir.

Edg.
All the Purses, and purchase, I give you to day
by conveyance, bring hither to Ursla's presently. Here
we will meet at night in her Lodg, and share. Look
you chuse good places for your standing i' the Fair, when
you sing, Nightingale.

[This they whisper, that Overdo hears it not.

Urs.
I, near the fullest passages; and shift 'em often.

Edg.
And i' your singing, you must use your Hawks
Eye nimbly, and fly the Purse to a mark, still, where 'tis
worn, and o' which side; that you may gi' me the sign
with your Beak, or hang your head that way i' the tune.

Urs.
Enough, talk no more on't: your friendship
(Masters) is not now to begin. Drink your draught
of Indenture, your sup of Covenant, and away, the
Fair fills apace, company begins to come in, and I ha'
ne'er a Pig ready yet.

Kno.
Well said! fill the Cups, and light the Tabacco:
let's give fire i' th' Works, and noble Vapours.

Edg.
And shall we ha' Smocks Ursla, and good whim-
sies, ha?

Urs.
Come, you are i' your bawdy vain! the best the
Fair will afford, Zekiel, if Bawd Whit keep his word;
how do the Pigs, Moon-calf?

Moo.
Very passionate, Mistris, on' on 'em has wept
out an Eye. Master Arthur o'Bradley is melancholy,
here, no body talks to him. Will you any Tabacco
Master Arthur?

Jus.
No, Boy, let my meditations alone.

Moo.
He's studying for an Oration, now.

Jus.
If I can with this days travel, and all my policy,
but rescue this youth here out of the hands of the lewd
Man, and the strange Woman, I will sit down at night,
and say with my Friend Ovid, Jamque opus exegi, quod
nec Jovis ira, nec ignis,
&c.

Kno.
Here Zekiel; here's a Health to Ursla, and a
kind Vapour: thou hast Money i' thy Purse still, and
store! how dost thou come by it? Pray thee Vapour thy
Friends some in a courteous Vapour.

Edg.
Half I have, Master Dan. Knockhum, is always at
your service.

Jus.
Ha, sweet nature! what Goshawk would prey
upon such a Lamb?

Kno.
Let's see, what 'tis, Zekiel! count it, come, fill
him to pledge me.

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