Bartholomew Fair by Ben Jonson

Stage. Gentlemen, have a little patience, they are e’en upon coming, instantly. He that should begin the play, master Littlewit, the proctor, has a stitch new fallen in his black silk stocking; ’twill be drawn up ere you can tell twenty: he plays one o’ the Arches that dwells about the hospital, and he has a very pretty part. But for the whole play, will you have the truth on’t?—I am looking, lest the poet hear me, or his man, master Brome, behind the arras—it is like to be a very conceited scurvy one, in plain English. When’t comes to the Fair once, you were e’en as good go to Virginia, for any thing there is of Smithfield.