SCENE II.


_Young Arthur's House_.

_Enter_ MISTRESS ARTHUR _and_ PIPKIN.

MRS ART. Come hither, Pipkin.
How chance you tread so softly?

PIP. For fear of breaking, mistress.

MRS ART. Art thou afraid of breaking, how so?

PIP. Can you blame me, mistress? I am crack'd already.

MRS ART. Crack'd, Pipkin, how? hath any crack'd your crown?

PIP. No, mistress; I thank God,
My crown is current, but--

MRS ART. But what?

PIP. The maid gave me not my supper yesternight, so that indeed my belly
wambled, and standing near the great sea-coal fire in the hall, and not
being full, on the sudden I crack'd, and you know, mistress, a pipkin is
soon broken.