Enter a CARRIER with a lantern in his hand
Heigh-ho! An it be not four by the day, I’ll be hanged.
Charles’s Wain is over the new chimney, and yet our horse
not packed.—What, ostler!
(within) Anon, anon.
5I prithee, Tom, beat Cut’s saddle. Put a few flocks in the
point. Poor jade is wrung in the withers out of all cess.
Peas and beans are as dank here as a dog, and that is the
next way to give poor jades the bots. This house is turned upside
down since Robin ostler died.
10Poor fellow never joyed since the price of oats rose. It was
the death of him.
I think this be the most villanous house in all London road
for fleas. I am stung like a tench.
Like a tench? By the Mass, there is ne'er a king christen
could be better bit than I have been since the first cock.