the first Scene.
Squirrell, and after him a Drawer.
Squir.
Your deligence knaves, or I shall canvase your pole
davyes, deafen not a gallant with your anon anon sir, to make
him stop his cares at an over-reckoning. Can a mansion purchased
and payd for be converted into a house of enterteinment,
and subsist without commings In and goings Out? Now sir what
say you?
Dra.
The reconing sir for Mr. Serge the Mercer, and the Scriveners
wife, that have been these two houres in the yellow bed-Chamber.
Squi.
And what had they?
Dra.
A dish of collops and egges, and wine.
Squi.
Sixteen shillings! 'tis well.
Dra.
But her husband had half a quire of paper and bastard by
himself in the Buls-head: which would hardly keep him emploi'd
below stayres; he was going up to peep through the key hole.
Squi.
Sawcy Scrivener! peep through a key hole! shouldst
have had him by the eares.
Dra.
His peeping through a hole cost them long since.
Squi.
And this came freely!
Dra.
He woundred sir it was no more.
Exit. Dra.
Squi.
Go carry the blades in the Lion a pottle of sack from
me: their roaring must be maintain'd out of my profit. They
are good procurers; and help now and then to stane of an over
heated Cittizen that persues his game, too eagerly. Though my holy-day
squires of the city bring me in most gain, my free Knights
of the suburbs, the erants of Lincoln-Inn fields, where their randevous
makes the gunpowder house terrible, and the smock tribute
due to their order is daily and nightly exacted: these I say are
the best mainteiners of my profits occasion; and Squirrell must
venter cracking to maintaine them whilst his sign and bush lasts.
