75

_For._ Those hornes he ment to place vpon my head,
And M. _Brooke_ and he should be the men:
Why how now sir _Iohn_, why are you thus amazed?
We know the Fairies man that pinched you so,
Your throwing in the Thames, your beating well, 80
And what's to come sir _Iohn_, that can we tell.

_Mi. Pa._ Sir _Iohn_ tis thus, your dishonest meanes
To call our credits into question,
Did make vs vndertake to our best,
To turn your leaud lust to a merry Iest. 85

_Fal._ Iest, tis well, haue I liued to these yeares
To be gulled now, now to be ridden?
Why then these were not _{F}airies?_

_Mis. Pa._ No sir _Iohn_ but boyes.

_Fal._ By the Lord I was twice or thrise in the mind 90
They were not, and yet the grosnesse
Of the fopperie perswaded me they were.
Well, and the fine wits of the Court heare this,
Thayle so whip me with their keene Iests,
That thayle melt me out like tallow, 95
Drop by drop out of my grease. Boyes!

_Sir Hu._ I trust me boyes Sir _Iohn:_ and I was
Also a Fairie that did helpe to pinch you.

_Fal._ I, tis well I am your May-pole,
You haue the start of mee, 100
Am I ridden too with a wealch goate?
With a peece of toasted cheese?

_Sir Hu._ Butter is better then cheese sir _Iohn_,
You are all butter, butter.

_For._ There is a further matter yet sir _Iohn_, 105
There's 20. pound you borrowed of M. _Brooke_ sir _Iohn_,
And it must be paid to M. _{F}ord_ sir _Iohn_.

_Mi. For._ Nay husband let that go to make amends,
Forgiue that sum, and so weele all be friends.

_For._ Well here is my hand, all's forgiuen at last. 110

_Fal._ It hath cost me well,
I haue beene well pinched and washed.

_Enter the Doctor._

_Mi. Pa._ Now M. Doctor, sonne I hope you are.

_Doct._ Sonne begar you be de ville voman,
Begar I tinck to marry metres _An_, and begar 115
Tis a whorson garson Iack boy.

_Mis. Pa._ How a boy?

_Doct._ I begar a boy.

_Pa._ Nay be not angry wife, {I}le tell thee true,
{I}t was my plot to deceiue thee so: 120
And by this time your daughter's married
To M. _{S}lender_, and see where he comes.

_Enter Slender._

Now sonne _Slender_,
Where's your bride?

_{S}len._ Bride, by Gods lyd _I_ thinke theres neuer a man in the 125
worell hath that c