FRIS. Soft, let me see; feel, I should say, for I cannot see. O lads, pray for my life, for we are almost at Crutched Friars. DEL. Dat's good: but what be dis post? FRIS. This post? why, 'tis the Maypole on Ivy Bridge going to Westminster. DEL. Ho[w,] Westminster! how come we to Westminster? FRIS. Why, on your legs, fools: how should you go? Soft, here's another; O, now I know indeed where I am. We are now at the farthest end of Shoreditch; for this is the Maypole. DEL. Shoreditch? O Dio! dere be some naughty ting, some spirit do lead us. FRIS. You say true, sir, for I am afeard your French spirit is up so far already, that you brought me this way, because you would find a charm for it at the Blue Boar in the spital. But soft, who comes here? _Enter a_ BELLMAN. BEL. Maids in your smocks, Look well to your locks; Your fire and light; And God give you good night! DEL. Monsieur gentlehomme, I pray parlez one, two, three, four words vor us to dis oul man. FRIS. Yes, marry, shall I, sir. I pray, honest fellow, in what street be we? BEL. Ho, Frisco! whither frisk you at this time of night? DEL. What, Monsieur Frisco? ALV. Signor Frisco? FRIS. The same, the same. Hark ye, honesty; methinks you might do well to have an M under your girdle,[529] considering how Signor Pisaro and this other monsieur do hold of me. BEL. O sir, I cry your mercy: pardon this fault, and I'll do as much for you the next time. FRIS. Well, passing over superfluical talk, I pray, what street is this? for it is so dark, I know not where I am. BEL. Why, art thou drunk? Dost thou not know Fenchurch Street? FRIS. Ay, sir, a good fellow may sometimes be overseen among friends. I was drinking with my master and these gentlemen, and therefore no marvel, though I be none of the wisest at this present. But I pray thee, good-man Butterick, bring me to my master's house. BEL. Why, I will, I will: push! that you are so strange nowadays; but it is an old-said saw, honours change manners. FRIS. Good-man Butterick, will you walk afore? Come, honest friends, will you go to our house? DEL. Oui, Monsieur Frisco. ALV. Si, Signor Frisco. SCENE II. _Enter_ VANDAL. VAN. O de skellum Frisco, ic weit neit waer ic be, ic go and hit my nose op dit post, and ic go and hit my nose op dandern post. O de villain! Well, waer ben ic now? Haw laet sein is dut neit Croche Friar, ya seker so ist and dit Mester Pisaro's huis. O de good shaunce! well, ic sal now have de wenche. Laurentia, Mestris Laurentia! _Enter_ LAURENTIA, MARINA, MATHEA, _above_. MAR. Who's there? Master Harvey? MATH. Master Walgrave? LAUR. Master Heigham? VAN. Ya, my love, here be Mester Heigham, your groot frind.