BUSY. [_to Mrs. Purecraft._] Hinder me not, woman I was moved in spirit, to be here this day, in this Fair, this wicked and foul Fair; and fitter may it be called a Foul than a Fair; to protest against the abuses of it, the foul abuses of it, in regard of the afflicted saints, that are troubled, very much troubled, exceedingly troubled, with the opening of the merchandise of Babylon again, and the peeping of popery upon the stalls here, here, in the high places. See you not Goldylocks, the purple strumpet there, in her yellow gown and green sleeves? the profane pipes, the tinkling timbrels? a shop of relicks! [_Attempts to seize the toys._ LIT. Pray you forbear, I am put in trust with them. BUSY. And this idolatrous grove of images, this flasket of idols, which I will pull down-- [_Overthrows the gingerbread basket._ TRASH. O my ware, my ware! God bless it! BUSY. In my zeal and glory to be thus exercised. _Re-enter LEATHERHEAD, with BRISTLE, HAGGISE, and other Officers._ LEATH. Here he is, pray you lay hold on his zeal; we cannot sell a whistle for him in tune. Stop his noise first. BUSY. Thou canst not; 'tis a sanctified noise: I will make a loud and most strong noise, till I have daunted the profane enemy. And for this cause-- LEATH. Sir, here's no man afraid of you, or your cause. You shall swear it in the stocks, sir. BUSY. I will thrust myself into the stocks, upon the pikes of the land. [_They seize him._ LEATH. Carry him away. PURE. What do you mean, wicked men? BUSY. Let them alone, I fear them not. [_Exeunt Officers with Busy, followed by Dame Purecraft._ LIT. Was not this shilling well ventured, Win, for our liberty? now we may go play, and see over the Fair, where we list ourselves: my mother is gone after him, and let her e'en go, and lose us. MRS. LIT. Yes, John; but I know not what to do. LIT. For what, Win? MRS. LIT. For a thing I am ashamed to tell you, i'faith; and 'tis too far to go home. LIT. I pray thee be not ashamed, Win. Come, i'faith, thou shalt not be ashamed: is it any thing about the hobby-horse man? an't be, speak freely. MRS. LIT. Hang him, base Bobchin, I scorn him; no, I have very great what sha' call 'um, John. [_Whispers him._ LIT. O, is that all, Win? we'll go back to captain Jordan, to the pig-woman's, Win, he'll help us, or she, with a dripping-pan, or an old kettle, or something. The poor greasy soul loves you, Win; and after we'll visit the Fair all over, Win, and see my puppet-play, Win; you know it's a fine matter, Win. [_Exeunt Littlewit and Mrs. Littlewit._ LEATH. Let's away; I counsell'd you to pack up afore, Joan. TRASH. A pox of his Bedlam purity! He has spoiled half my ware; but the best is, we lose nothing if we miss our first merchant. LEATH. It shall be hard for him to find or know us, when we are translated, Joan. [_Exeunt._ ACT IV SCENE I.--_The Fair._ Booths, Stalls, a pair of Stocks, etc.