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The Scene chang'd to None-so-faire house.
Enter None-so-fair, Sweetlips, and Woudhamore,
Woud.
Say no more, the Treat was splendid.

Sweet.
But where's your kind good man I wonder?
Of all your Pomp let's see the Founder.


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Non.
Stay you here a little tinie,
And I'le go call my loving Ninny:
Love, Honey, Chuck, Duch, so hoe, il o ho, ho, ho.

Woud.
Our Sister Queen has an excellent voice to call
Harvest-men to Dinner.—
Oh Cross, untoward Fate! Ay that thou art!
Must she all pleasure have, and we all smart?

Sweet.
Like Image on house-top th'hast put her,
And we must crawl like Ducks in gutter.

Woud.
And see her Finery, Oh Rot her!
Such earthen Dishes, such scull Bason,
Table so scrubb'd, you may see face on,
Such shining Platters, Shelves with lace on.
Such Pots so scour'd with Sand and Whiting,
Monarch had n'r such Kitchin to delight in.

Sweet.
Her Man, her Maid, her Dog, her Cat too,
At Dinner dresser thump'd like Tattoo:
Strong-bub in Closet, and all that too.

Woud.
We thought she'ad given Crow a pudding,
And Luxury is just a budding;
And we to see't must come a gooding.

Sweet.
I cannot live to see this thing long,
A Curse on Mother Woossat's flim flam,
Are these the Fruits of flattering sing song.

Woud.
Well, luck may turn, what's more ficle then chance?
Come let's Club our Sculs, and plot Vengeance,
Her strolling jilting tricks, we'l tell'o
And make her trusty Roger yellow.
Enter Bruin, and None-so-fair.
He comes i'faith a witty fellow.

Sweet.

Oh happy Mauks! if I could reach the rope of her
heart, I would starngle her with't.


Woud.

A brave fellow! he stands like a Tree, and his legs
look like Hercules's Pillars.—

Ile sell my Cloaths from my back,
To buy love-Pouder for his sake.

Sweet.
I'le poyson my dear Sister Crack,
E'r I this Gallant thing will lack,
I must speak to him Servant Jack.


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Woud.
Hold, when I have supp'd with Margret Trantum,
With goodly thing you may play Rantum;
Till then ifacks y'are like to wantum.

Bru.

Ladies first y'are very wellcom; and secondly, I hope
to give you all content.—

For Sisters sake my beautious Gipsie,
On whom Prince Bruin casteth Sheeps eye,
You shall bouze gratis till y'are tipsie;
On stately shank rest tyr'd ham trulls,
And you shall see my tricks and gambols.

Flisco flisco whisco fibribisco fosco posco, sebosco larasco velasco,
trumdle fundle, bundle hundle, tantarra dundle—surgito
surgitote.—