_B._ Why, how now, Joane! are you heere? Gods my life, what make you heere, gaddinge and gazinge after this manner? You come to buy gape-seede,[277] doe you? Wherefore come you abroade now I' faith can you tell? [Footnote 277: A pun on the open mouth of wonder and curiosity. G.] _Joa._ I come abroade to welcome these Strangers. _B._ Strangers? how knew you there would come Strangers? _Jo._ All this night I could not sleepe, dreaming of greene rushes; and yesternight the chatting of the pyes, and the chirkinge[278] of the frisketts[279] did foretell as much; and, besides that, all this day my lefte eare glowed,[280] and that is to me (let them all say what they wil) allwaies a signe of Strangers, if it be in the Summer; marye, if it be in the Winter, tis a signe of anger. But what make you in this company, I pray you? [Footnote 278: Imitative word, as the 'chirr' of the grasshopper. G.] _B._ I make the way for these Strangers, which the Way-maker himself could not doe; for it is a way was never passed before. Besides, the Mrs. of this faire company, though she know the way to all men's harts, yet she knowes the way but to few men's howses, except she love them very well, I can tell you; and therefore I myselfe, without any comission, have taken upon me to conduct them to the house. _Jo._ The house? which house? doe you remember yourselfe? which way goe you? _B._ I goe this way, on the right hand. Which way should I goe? _Jo._ You say true, and you're a trim man; but I' faith I'll talke noe more to you, except you ware wyser. I pray you hartely, 'forsooth, come neare the house, and take a simple lodginge with vs to-night; for I can assuere you that yonder house that he talks of is but a Pigeon-house, which is very little if it were finisht, and yet very little of it is finisht. And you will believe me, vpon my life, Lady, I saw Carpenters and Bricklayers and other Workmen about it within less than these two howers. Besides, I doubt my Mr. and Mrs. are not at home; or, if they be, you must make your owne provision; for they have noe provision for such Strangers. You should seeme to be Ladies; and we in the country have an old saying, that "halfe a pease a day will serve a Lady." I know not what you are, nether am I acquainted with your dyet; but, if you will goe with me, you shall haue cheare for a Lady: for first you shall have a dayntie sillibub; next a messe of clowted creame; stroakings,[281] in good faith, redd cowes milk, and they say in London that's restorative: you shall have greene cheeses and creame. (I'll speake a bould word) if the Queene herself (God save her Grace) [were here] she might be seene to eat of it. Wee will not greatly bragge of our possets, but we would be loath to learne to praise: and if you loue frute, forsooth, wee haue jenitings,[282] paremayns,[283] russet coates,[284] pippines, able-johns,[285] and perhaps a pareplum,[286] a damsone, I or an apricocke[287] too, but that they are