KNOCK. Ha, mad child o' the Pie-poudres! art thou there? fill us a fresh can, Urse, we may drink together. TRO. I may not drink without a warrant, captain. KNOCK. 'Slood, thou'lt not stale without a warrant shortly. Whit, give me pen, ink, and paper, I'll draw him a warrant presently. TRO. It must be justice Overdo's. KNOCK. I know, man; fetch the drink, Whit. WHIT. I pre dee now, be very brief, captain, for de new ladies stay for dee. [_Exit, and re-enters with a can._ KNOCK. O, as brief as can be, here 'tis already. [_Gives Troubleall a paper._] Adam Overdo. TRO. Why now I'll pledge you, captain. KNOCK. Drink it off, I'll come to thee anon again. [_Exeunt._ SCENE IV.--_The back of URSULA'S Booth._ OVERDO in the stocks. People, etc. _Enter QUARLOUS with the license, and EDGWORTH._ QUAR. Well, sir, you are now discharged; beware of being spied hereafter. EDG. Sir, will it please you, enter in here at Ursula's, and take part of a silken gown, a velvet petticoat, or a wrought smock; I am promised such, and I can spare a gentleman a moiety. QUAR. Keep it for your companions in beastliness, I am none of them, sir. If I had not already forgiven you a greater trespass, or thought you yet worth my beating, I would instruct your manners, to whom you made your offers. But go your ways, talk not to me, the hangman is only fit to discourse with you; the hand of beadle is too merciful a punishment for your trade of life. [_Exit Edgworth._]--I am sorry I employ'd this fellow, for he thinks me such; _facinus quos inquinat, æquat._ But it was for sport; and would I make it serious, the getting of this license is nothing to me, without other circumstances concur. I do think how impertinently I labour, if the word be not mine that the ragged fellow mark'd: and what advantage I have given Ned Winwife in this time now of working her, though it be mine. He'll go near to form to her what a debauched rascal I am, and fright her out of all good conceit of me: I should do so by him, I am sure, if I had the opportunity. But my hope is in her temper yet; and it must needs be next to despair, that is grounded on any part of a woman's discretion. I would give, by my troth now, all I could spare, to my clothes and my sword, to meet my tatter'd soothsayer again, who was my judge in the question, to know certainly whose word he has damn'd or saved; for till then I live but under a reprieve. I must seek him. Who be these? _Enter BRISTLE and some of the Watch, with WASPE._ WASPE. Sir, you are a Welsh cuckold, and a prating runt, and no constable. BRI. You say very well.--Come, put in his leg in the middle roundel, and let him hole there. [_They put him in the stocks._ WASPE. You stink of leeks, metheglin, and cheese, you rogue. BRI. Why, what is that to you, if you sit sweetly in the stocks in the mean time? if you have a mind to stink too, your breeches sit close enough to your bum. Sit you merry, sir. QUAR. How now, Numps?