SAT. For what? the laming a poore Cow, or two? Entring a Sow, to make her caſt her farrow? Or croſſing of a Mercat-womans Mare, 10 Twixt this, and _Totnam_? theſe were wont to be Your maine atchieuements, _Pug_, You haue ſome plot, now, Vpon a tonning of Ale, to ſtale the yeſt, Or keepe the churne ſo, that the buttter come not; Spight o’ the houſewiues cord, or her hot ſpit? 15 Or ſome good Ribibe, about _Kentiſh_ Towne, Or _Hogſden_, you would hang now, for a witch, Becauſe ſhee will not let you play round _Robbin_: And you’ll goe ſowre the Citizens Creame ’gainſt Sunday? That ſhe may be accus’d for’t, and condemn’d, 20 By a _Middleſex_ Iury, to the ſatisfaction Of their offended friends, the _Londiners_ wiues Whoſe teeth were ſet on edge with it? Fooliſh feind, Stay i’ your place, know your owne ſtrengths, and put not Beyond the ſpheare of your actiuity. 25 You are too dull a Diuell to be truſted [96] Forth in thoſe parts, _Pug_, vpon any affayre That may concerne our name, on earth. It is not Euery ones worke. The ſtate of _Hell_ muſt care Whom it imployes, in point of reputation, 30 Heere about _London_. You would make, I thinke An Agent, to be ſent, for _Lancaſhire_, Proper inough; or ſome parts of _Northumberland_, So yo’ had good inſtructions, _Pug_. PVG. _O Chiefe!_ You doe not know, deare _Chiefe_, what there is in mee. 35 Proue me but for a fortnight, for a weeke, And lend mee but a _Vice_, to carry with mee, To practice there-with any play-fellow, And, you will ſee, there will come more vpon’t, Then you’ll imagine, pretious _Chiefe_. SAT. What _Vice_? 40 What kind wouldſt th’ haue it of? PVG. Why, any _Fraud_; Or _Couetouſneſſe_; or Lady _Vanity_; Or old _Iniquity_: I’ll call him hither. INI. What is he, calls vpon me, and would ſeeme to lack a _Vice_? Ere his words be halfe ſpoken, I am with him in a trice; 45 Here, there, and euery where, as the Cat is with the mice: True _vetus Iniquitas_. Lack’ſt thou Cards, friend, or Dice? I will teach thee cheate, Child, to cog, lye, and ſwagger, And euer and anon, to be drawing forth thy dagger: To ſweare by Gogs-nownes, like a lusty _Iuuentus_, 50 In a cloake to thy heele, and a hat like a pent-houſe. Thy breeches of three fingers, and thy doublet all belly, With a Wench that shall feede thee, with cock-ſtones and gelly. PVG. Is it not excellent, _Chiefe_? how nimble he is!