Clod. Oh, he's often forgotten, that's no rule; but there is no Maid Marian nor Friar amongst them, which is the surer mark.

Cock. Nor a fool that I see.

Clod. Unless they be all fools.

Town. Well said, Tom Fool; why, thou simple parish ass thou, didst thou never see any gipsies? These are a covey of gipsies, and the bravest new covey that ever constable flew at; goodly, game gipsies, they are gipsies of this year, of this moon, in my conscience.

Clod. Oh, they are called the Moon-men, I remember now!

Cock. One shall hardly see such gentlemen-like gipsies though, under a hedge, in a whole summer's day, if they be gipsies.

Town. Male gipsies all, not a Mort among them. Pup. Where, where? I could never endure the sight of one of these rogue-gipsies: which be they? I would fain see 'em.

Clod. Yonder they are.

Pup. Can they cant or mill ? are they masters in their art?

Town. No, batchelors these; they cannot have proceeded so far; they have scarce had their time to be lousy yet.

Pup. All the better: I would be acquainted with them while they are in clean life, they will do their tricks the cleanlier.

Cock. We must have some music then, and take out the wenches.

Pup. Music! we'll have a whole poverty of pipers; call Cheeks upon the bagpipe, and Tom Tickle-foot with his tabor. Clod, will you gather the pipe-money?

8 Can they cant or mill,] i. e. beg or steal. What Puppy means just below by POVERTY, I cannot tell: perhaps posse.

Clod. I'll gather it an you will, but I'll give none. Pup. Why, well said! Claw a churl by the aand he'll s- in your fist.

Cock. Ay, or whistle to a jade, and he'll pay you with a f-.

Clod. F-! 'tis an ill wind that blows no man to profit :-See where the minstrel comes in the mouth on't.

Cock. Ay, and all the good wenches of Windsor after him; yonder is Prue o' the park.

Town. And Frances o' the castle.
Pup. And Long Meg of Eaton.
Clod. And Christian o' Dorney.

Town. See the miracle of a minstrel !

Cock. He's able to muster up the smocks of the two shires.

Pup. And set the codpieces and they by the ears at pleasure.

Enter the two Pipers playing, and followed by PRUDENCE, FRANCES, CICELY, MEG, CHRISTIAN, and other Wenches.

Town. I cannot hold now, there's my groat, let's have a fit for mirth sake.

Cock. Yes, and they'll come about us for luck's sake.

Pup. But look to our pockets and purses, for our

own sake.

Clod. Ay, I have the greatest charge, if I gather the money.

Cock. Come, girls, here be gipsies come to town, let's dance them down.

[Music.

Here they take out the Wenches, and dance

Country Dances,

During which the Gipsies and the Patrico come about them prying, and pick their pockets.

Pat. Sweet doxies and dells,

My Roses and Nells,
Scarce out of the shells,
Your hands, nothing else.
We ring you no knells
With our Ptolemy's bells,
Though we come from the fells;
But bring you good spells,
And tell you some chances,
In midst of your dances,
That fortune advances,
To Prudence or Frances;
To Cicely or Harry,

To Roger or Mary,

Or Peg of the dairy ;
To Maudlin or Thomas;
Then do not run from us.
Although we look tawny,
We are healthy and brawny,
Whate'er your demand is,
We'll give you no jaundis.

Pup. Say you so, old gipsy! 'Slid, these go to't in rhymes; this is better than canting by the one half. Town. Nay, you shall hear them: peace, they begin with Prudence; mark that.

Pup. The wiser gipsies they, marry.

Town. Are you advised?

Pup. Yes, and I'll stand to't, that a wise gipsy, (take him at the time o' the year) is as politic a piece of flesh as most justices in the county where he stalks. 3 Gip. To love a keeper your fortune will be,

But the doucets better than him or his fee.

Town. Ha, Prue, has he hit you in the teeth with the sweet bit?

Pup. Let her alone, she'll swallow it well enough; a learned gipsy!

Town. You'll hear more hereafter

Pup. Marry, and I'll listen: who stands next? Jack Cockrel?

2 Gip. You'll have good luck to horse-flesh, o' my life, You plough'd so late with the vicar's wife. Pup. A prophet, a prophet, no gipsy! or if he be a gipsy, a divine gipsy.

Town. Mark Frances, now she's going to't, the virginity o' the parish!

Pat. Fear not, in hell you'll never lead apes,

A mortified maiden of five escapes.

Pup. By'r lady, he touch'd the virgin-string there a little too hard. They are arrant learned men all I see; what say they upon Tom Clod? list.

I Gip. Clod's feet will in Christmas go near to be bare,

When he has lost all his hobnails at post and at pair.

9 You'll have good luck to horse-flesh, o' my life,

You plough'd so late with the vicar's wife.] In the small edition, this fortune is told with more humour in the follow in manner :

"You'll steal yourself drunk, I find it here true,

As you rob the pot, the pot will rob you." WHAL.

This is also the reading of the MS. But Whalley should have recollected that most of these "fortunes" contained little pieces of private history, and were adapted to the characters, who varied at every representation. Cockrel's fortune is a proverbial expression which occurs in many of our old dramas. Thus Glapthorne : "Clare. If he be a parson

And May:

And I his wife, sure I shall make my friends
Lucky to horse-flesh." Wit in a Constable.

"I hope to have good luck to horse-flesh now she is a parson's wife." The Heir.

Pup. He has hit the right nail o' the head, his own game.

Town. And the very metal he deals in at play, if you mark it.

Pup. Peace, who's this? Long Meg?

Town. Long and foul Meg, if she be a Meg, as ever I saw of her inches: pray Heaven they fit her with a fair fortune! she hangs an a- terribly. Pup. They slip her,' and treat upon Ticklefoot. I Gip. On Sundays you rob the poor's box with your tabor;

The collectors would do it, you save them a

labour.

Pup. Faith, but a little they do it non upstante. Town. Here's my little Christian forgot; have you any fortune left for her? a strait-laced Christian of sixteen.

Pat. Christian shall get her a loose-bodied gown

In trying how a gentleman differs from a clown. Pup. Is that a fortune for a Christian? a Turk with a gipsy could not have told her a worse.

Town. Come, I'll stand myself, and once venture the poor head o' the town; do your worst, my name's Townshead, and here's my hand, I'll not be angry. 3 Gip. A cuckold you must be, and that for three lives, Your own, the parson's, and your wive's.

Town. I swear I'll never marry for that, an't be but to give fortune, my foe, the lie: Come, Paul Puppy, you must in too.

Pup. No, I'm well enough; I would have no good fortune an I might.

4 Gip. Yet look to yourself, you'll have some ill luck, And shortly, for I have his purse at a pluck. [Aside to the Patrico.

1 They slip her.] They do not slip Meg in the MS. nor in the 12mo.; but as there is nothing remarkable in her fortune, it may as well remain untold.