Page:A Yorkshire Tragedie - Not So New, As Lamentable and True (1619).djvu/15

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A Yorkshire Tragedy.

Oliuer. Sirrah Sam, I would not for two yeares
wages my young Mistresse knew so much, shee'd run
vpon the left hand of her wit, and nere be her owne
woman againe.

Sam. And I thinke she was blest in her Cradle, that
he neuer came in her bed, why hee has consumed all,
pawnd his lands, and made his Vniuersity Brother
stand in waxe for him; There's a fine phrase for a scriuener,
puh, he owes more then his skin is worth.

Oliuer. Is't posible?

Sam. Nay, ile tell you moreouer, hee cals his Wife
whore, as familiarly as one would call Moll and Doll,
and his children bastards, as naturally as can be, but
what haue we heere? I thought twas something puld
downe my Breeches: I quite forgot my two potingstickes,
these came from London, now any thing is
good heere that comes from London.

Oliuer. I, farre fetcht you know.

Sam. But speake in your conscience ifaith, haue
not we as good potingsticks i'th Country as need to
be put i'th fire, the minde of a thing is all, and as thou
saidst euen now, farre fetcht is the best things for Ladyes.

Oliuer. I, and for waiting gentlewomen to.

Sam. But Raphe, is our Beere sowre this thunder?

Raphe. No, no, it holds countenance yet.

Sam. Why then follow me, Ile teach you the finest
humor to be drunk in, I learnd it at London last weeke.

Amb. Faith lets heare it, lets heare it.

Sam. The brauest humor, twould do a man good to

be