OVER. Nay, the hole in the nose here of some tobacco-takers, or the third nostril, if I may so call it, which makes that they can vent the tobacco out, like the ace of clubs, or rather the flower-de-lis, is caused from the tobacco, the mere tobacco! when the poor innocent pox, having nothing to do there, is miserably and most unconscionably slandered. COKES. Who would have missed this, sister? MRS. OVER. Not any body but Numps. COKES. He does not understand. EDG. [_picks Cokes's pocket of his purse._] Nor you feel. [_Aside._ COKES. What would you have, sister, of a fellow that knows nothing but a basket-hilt, and an old fox in't? the best musick in the Fair will not move a log. EDG. [_gives the purse aside to Nightingale._] In, to Ursula, Nightingale, and carry her comfort: see it told. This fellow was sent to us by Fortune, for our first fairing. [_Exit Nightingale._ OVER. But what speak I of the diseases of the body, children of the Fair? COKES. That's to us, sister. Brave, i'faith! OVER. Hark, O you sons and daughters of Smithfield! and hear what malady it doth the mind: it causeth swearing, it causeth swaggering, it causeth snuffling and snarling, and now and then a hurt. MRS. OVER. He hath something of master Overdo, methinks, brother. COKES. So methought, sister, very much of my brother Overdo: and 'tis when he speaks. OVER. Look into any angle of the town, the Streights, or the Bermudas, where the quarrelling lesson is read, and how do they entertain the time, but with bottle-ale and tobacco? The lecturer is o' one side, and his pupils o' the other; but the seconds are still bottle-ale and tobacco, for which the lecturer reads, and the novices pay. Thirty pound a week in bottle-ale! forty in tobacco! and ten more in ale again. Then for a suit to drink in, so much, and, that being slaver'd, so much for another suit, and then a third suit, and a fourth suit! and still the bottle-ale slavereth, and the tobacco stinketh. WASPE. Heart of a madman! are you rooted here? will you never away? what can any man find out in this bawling fellow, to grow here for? He is a full handful higher sin' he heard him. Will you fix here, and set up a booth, sir? OVER. I will conclude briefly-- WASPE. Hold your peace, you roaring rascal, I'll run my head in your chaps else. You were best build a booth, and entertain him; make your will, an you say the word, and him your heir! heart, I never knew one taken with a mouth of a peck afore. By this light, I'll carry you away on my back, an you will not come. [_He gets Cokes up on pick-back._ COKES. Stay, Numps, stay, set me down: I have lost my purse, Numps. O my purse! One of my fine purses is gone! MRS. OVER. Is it indeed, brother? COKES. Ay, as I am an honest man, would I were an arrant rogue else! a plague of all roguy damn'd cut-purses for me. [_Examines his pockets._