COKES. Nay, never fidge up and down, Numps, and vex itself. I am resolute Bartholomew in this; I'll make no suit on't to you; 'twas all the end of my journey indeed, to shew mistress Grace my Fair. I call it my Fair, because of Bartholomew: you know my name is Bartholomew, and Bartholomew Fair. LIT. That was mine afore, gentlemen; this morning. I had that, i'faith, upon his license, believe me, there he comes after me. QUAR. Come, John, this ambitious wit of yours, I am afraid, will do you no good in the end. LIT. No! why, sir? QUAR. You grow so insolent with it, and over-doing, John, that if you look not to it, and tie it up, it will bring you to some obscure place in time, and there 'twill leave you. WINW. Do not trust it too much, John, be more sparing, and use it but now and then; a wit is a dangerous thing in this age; do not over-buy it. LIT. Think you so, gentlemen? I'll take heed on't hereafter. MRS. LIT. Yes, do, John. COKES. A pretty little soul, this same mistress Littlewit, would I might marry her! GRACE. So would I; or any body else, so I might 'scape you. [_Aside._ COKES. Numps, I will see it, Numps, 'tis decreed: never be melancholy for the matter. WASPE. Why, see it, sir, see it, do, see it: who hinders you? why do you not go see it? 'slid see it. COKES. The Fair, Numps, the Fair. WASPE. Would the Fair, and all the drums and rattles in it, were in your belly for me! they are already in your brain. He that had the means to travel your head now, should meet finer sights than any are in the Fair, and make a finer voyage on't; to see it all hung with cockle shells, pebbles, fine wheat straws, and here and there a chicken's feather, and a cobweb. QUAR. Good faith, he looks, methinks, an you mark him, like one that were made to catch flies, with his sir Cranion-legs. WINW. And his Numps, to flap them away. WASPE. God be wi' you, sir, there's your bee in a box, and much good do't you. [_Gives Cokes the box._ COKES. Why, your friend, and Bartholomew; an you be so contumacious. QUAR. What mean you, Numps? [_Takes Waspe aside as he is going out._ WASPE. I'll not be guilty, I, gentlemen. MRS. OVER. You will not let him go, brother, and lose him? COKES. Who can hold that will away? I had rather lose him than the Fair, I wusse. WASPE. You do not know the inconvenience, gentlemen, you persuade to, nor what trouble I have with him in these humours. If he go to the Fair, he will buy of every thing to a baby there; and household stuff for that too. If a leg or an arm on him did not grow on, he would lose it in the press. Pray heaven I bring him off with one stone! And then he is such a ravener after fruit!--you will not believe what a coil I had t'other day to compound a business between a Cather'nepear woman, and him, about snatching: 'tis intolerable, gentlemen. WINW. O, but you must not leave him now to these hazards, Numps.