COKES. _Youth, youth, etc.;_ where's this youth now? a man must call upon him for his own good, and yet he will not appear. Look here, here's for him; [_shews his purse._] handy dandy, which hand will he have? On, I pray thee, with the rest; I do hear of him, but I cannot see him, this master youth, the cut-purse. NIGHT. _At plays, and at sermons, and at the sessions, 'Tis daily their practice such booty to make. Yea under the gallows at executions, They stick not the stare-abouts' purses to take. Nay one without grace, At a [far] better place, At court, and in Christmas, before the king's face._ COKES. That was a fine fellow! I would have him now. NIGHT. _Alack then for pity must I bear the curse, That only belongs to the cunning cut-purse?_ COKES. But where's their cunning now, when they should use it? they are all chain'd now, I warrant you. [_Sings._] _Youth, youth, thou had'st better_--The rat-catchers' charms are all fools and asses to this: a pox on them, that they will not come! that a man should have such a desire to a thing, and want it! QUAR. 'Fore God I'd give half the Fair, an 'twere mine, for a cut-purse for him, to save his longing. COKES. Look you, sister [_shews his purse again_], here, here, where is't now? which pocket is't in, for a wager? WASPE. I beseech you leave your wagers, and let him end his matter, an't may be. COKES. O, are you edified, Numps! OVER. Indeed he does interrupt him too much: there Numps spoke to purpose. [_Aside._ COKES. Sister, I am an ass, I cannot keep my purse! [_Shews it again, and puts it up._]--On, on, I pray thee, friend. NIGHT. _Youth, youth, thou hadst better been starv'd by thy nurse, Than live to be hanged for cutting a purse._ [_As Nightingale sings, Edgworth gets up to Cokes, and tickles him in the ear with a straw twice to draw his hand out of his pocket._ WINW. Will you see sport? look, there's a fellow gathers up to him, mark. QUAR. Good, i'faith! O he has lighted on the wrong pocket. WINW. He has it! 'fore God, he is a brave fellow: pity he should be detected. NIGHT. _But O, you vile nation of cut-purses all, Relent and repent, and amend and be sound, And know that you ought not, by honest men's fall, Advance your own fortunes, to die above ground; And though you go gay In silks, as you may, It is not the highway to heaven (as they say). Repent then, repent you, for better, for worse, And kiss not the gallows for cutting a purse. Youth, youth, thou had'st better been starv'd by thy nurse, Than live to be hang'd for cutting a purse._ ALL. An excellent ballad! an excellent ballad! EDG. Friend, let me have the first, let me have the first, I pray you. [_As Nightingale reaches out the ballad, Edgworth slips the purse into his hand._ COKES. Pardon me, sir; first come first serv'd; and I'll buy the whole bundle too. WINW. That conveyance was better than all, did you see't? he has given the purse to the ballad-singer.