+Tim.+ Who's this? goodman File, the blacksmith! I thought it had been our old collier. Did you go to bed with that dirty face, goodman File? +Smith.+ And rise with it too, sir. +Tim.+ What have you bumming out there, goodman File? +Smith.+ A vice, sir, that I would fain be furnished with a little money upon. +Tim.+ Why, how will you do to work then, goodman File? +Smith.+ This is my spare vice, not that I live by. +Tim.+ Hum! you did not buy this spare vice of a lean courtier, did ye? +Smith.+ No, sir, of a fat cook, that 'strained[8] of a smith for's rent. +Sim.+ O hard-hearted man of grease! +Tim.+ Nay, nay, Sim, we must do't sometimes. +Blood.+ Ha, thrifty whoreson! +Tim.+ And what would serve your turn, goodman File? +Smith.+ A noble, sir. +Tim.+ What! upon a spare vice to lend a noble? +Sim.+ Why, sir, for ten groats you may make yourself drunk, and so buy a vice outright for half the money. +Tim.+ That is a noble vice, I assure you. +Sim.+ How long would you have it? +Smith.+ But a fortnight; 'tis to buy stuff, I protest, sir. +Tim.+ Look you, being a neighbour, and born one for another---- +Blood.+ Ha, villain, shalt have all! +Tim.+ There is five shillings upon't, which, at the fortnight's end, goodman File, you must make five shillings sixpence. +Smith.+ How, sir? +Tim.+ Nay, an' it were not to do you a courtesy---- +Blood.+ Ha, boy! +Tim.+ And then I had forgot threepence for my bill; so there is four shillings and ninepence,[9] which you are to tender back five shillings sixpence, goodman File, at the end of the fortnight. +Smith.+ Well, an' it were not for earnest necessity----Ha, boys! I come, I come, you black rascals, let the cans go round. [_Exit +Smith+._ +Tim.+ Sim, because the man's an honest man, I pray lay up his vice, as safe as it were our own. +Sim.+ And if he miss his day, and forfeit, it shall be yours and your heirs for ever. +Blood.+ What, disbursing money, boy? Here is thy mother-in-law. +Sim.+ Your nose drops: 'twill spoil her ruff. +Tim.+ Pray, forsooth, what's a clock? +Maid.+ O, fie upon him, mistress, I thought he had begun to ask you blessing. +Wid.+ Peace, we'll have more on't. [_Walks towards him._ +Tim.+ I wonnot kiss, indeed. +Sim.+ An' he wonnot, here are those that will, forsooth. +Blood.+ Get you in, you rogue. [_Exit +Sim.+_ +Wid.+ I hope you will, sir: I was bred in Ireland, where the women begin the salutation. +Tim.+ I wonnot kiss truly. +Wid.+ Indeed you must. +Tim.+ Would my girdle may break if I do.[10] +Wid.+ I have a mind. +Tim.+ Niggers-noggers, I wonnot.