SCENE VI.
Reading edition
Enter Don John.
John. Was ever man so paid for being curious? Ever so bob'd for searching out adventures, As I am? did the Devil lead me? must I needs be peeping Into mens houses where I had no business, And make my self a mischief? 'Tis well carried; I must take other mens occasions on me, And be I know not whom: most finely handled: What have I got by this now? what's the purchase? A piece of evening Arras work, a child, Indeed an Infidel: this comes of peeping: A lump got out of laziness; good white bread Let's have no bawling with ye: 'sdeath, have I Known wenches thus long, all the ways of wenches Their snares and subtilties? have I read over All their School learnings, div'd into their quiddits, And am I now bum-fidled with a Bastard? Fetch'd over with a Card of five, and in mine old days, After the dire massacre of a million Of Maiden-heads? caught the common way, i'th' night too Under anothers name, to make the matter Carry more weight about it? well Don John, You will be wiser one day, when ye have purchas'd A heavy of these Butter-prints together, With searching out conceal'd iniquities, Without commission: why, it would never grieve me, If I had got this Ginger-bread: never stirr'd me, So I had had a stroak for't: 't had been Justice Then to have kept it; but to raise a dayrie For other mens adulteries, consume my self in candles, And scowring works, in Nurses Bells and Babies, Only for charity, for meer I thank you, A little troubles me: the least touch for it, Had but my breeches got it, had contented me. Whose e're it is, sure 't had a wealthy Mother, For 'tis well cloathed, and if I be not cozen'd, Well lin'd within: to leave it here were barbarous, And ten to one would kill it: a more sin Then his that got it: well, I will dispose on't, And keep it, as they keep deaths heads in rings, To cry memento to me; no more peeping. Now all the danger is to qualifie The good old gentlewoman, at whose house we live, For she will fall upon me with a Catechism Of four hours long: I must endure all; For I will know this Mother: Come good wonder, Let you and I be jogging: your starv'd trebble Will waken the rude watch else: all that be Curious night-walkers, may they find my fee. [Exit.