SCENE V.

_Enter_ WELCOME, _a host_.

WEL. Sure, I have slept myself into an owl, and mistake night for day? Can light dawn, and none see the way to my house for a morning's draught? No groats due? Did all my mad lads go sober to bed last night? Such a crime forfeits the city charter. What ho! speak here, sirrah Bung.

_Enter_ BUNG.

BUNG. By and by! Who calls? O master, good morrow to you.

WEL. Why, it is day with thee too, Bung, and I no owl. Speak, prythee; how long is't since thou couldst grope the tap out?

BUNG. O sir, this two hours. I have cut two dozen of toasts, broached a new barrel of ale, washed all the cups and flagons, made a fire i' th' George,[240] drained all the beer out of th' Half-Moon the company left o' the floor last night, wiped down all the tables, and have swept every room. The sun has been up this hour almost.

WEL. Ay, there's an honest soaker; the old blade swills himself i' th' sea all night, and quaffs from th' earth all day, and that makes him have such a ruby face. But what, no customers yet?

BUNG. Not one, sir; our old charwoman, Mary, has not called for her morning's draught yet--she that's the tub for all men's snuffs, and devours me more tappings than would serve to make strong waters for an army.

WEL. Sure, all the beer that was drunk yesterday had poppy in't instead of malt; and people are not yet awake, or else they mistake my house for a prison, and my old lattice for grates. Come, Bung, we'll give ourselves handsel; go, fill's a lusty pot of ale. [_Exit_ BUNG.] This is a precious varlet, and has tricks enou' to furnish all the tapsters between Charing Cross and Fleet Bridge. The sleights of nicking and frothing he scorns as too common, but supplies that defect with little jugs and great glasses, and where he fears a dissolution, brings up his flagon, begins the king's health, and with that decoy draws on another dozen or two, till the whole royal progeny is gone over. He wished it once as numerous as old Priam's was, and another time had like to have been hanged for praying treason, that there were a hundred kings i' th' land, that men might be forced to drink all their healths for fear of displeasing any.

_Re-enter_ BUNG.

BUNG. Here, sir, here's a cup of stinging liquor; it is so thick that you may slice it, and came drivelling out as if the loving vessel had been loth to part with it.

WEL. How? 'tis cold; the rogue has put ice into't instead of toast, or else one of's hundred leger wafers the baker dried for him t'other day in's oven, after his bread was drawn, for the yeast of two barrels. [_Aside._] You rascal, cheat your master?

BUNG. Cry you mercy, good sir; I protest I had forgot who 'twas for, and popped it in before I was aware; but I'll air it for you instantly, if you please.

WEL. No, no, I'll warm't myself, and it shall warm me. Come, here's to all good swallows! So, so, one cup of ale will shroud one better from the cold than all the furs in Russia.

WITHIN. Tapster, where are you? Show's a room here.

BUNG. Anon, anon, sir. You are welcome, gentlemen. Please you, walk into th' George; there's a good fire, and no company. [_Exit._

WEL. To see what luck a handsel will procure! No sooner the cup out of my mouth but another called for! It seems it stayed at me all this while; a dry, shabby host is more absurd than a dumb Exchange. These are some boon fellows, I know; the rogue is so perfect in his lerry.[241] Ditty and's comrades, perhaps; the rascal can never sing well till he has wetted his whistle at my house. He made me set up the sign o' th' Flying Horse for a Pegasus. Budget the tinker, too, is as good at cracking a pot as any, and Bristle the merriest, cunningest whoreson; he sells his traps twopence dearer, only by giving rules how to bait them--for a Dutch mouse, with butter forsooth, or bacon; and then for a Welsh one, toasted cheese is the best.

_Enter_ BUNG _again_.

BUNG. The gentlemen within desire your company.

WEL. What are they?

BUNG. The four churchwardens o' th' parish, that never exceed halfpence apiece at a morning's draught, must have a flagon instead of a black-pot, and fire, toast and nutmeg over and above; nay, sometimes a breakfast too.

WEL. And when they mount so high as a penny, drink at Widow Grunt's--she that has an eleven children, and say they are prodigal, merely out of charity to the poor orphan pigs; but at th' hall, on a court-day, can be as drunk as so many tinkers at Banbury, or nurses at a christ'ning! Pox on 'um, tell 'um I am busy with other company.

BUNG. Nay, sir, they protest they'll have your jug in.[242]

WEL. They shall have me too then, and for once I'll obey their summons; but let 'um expect to pay for all they call for, and therefore for me. [_Exeunt._