SCENE II.

Boy. Score a gallon of Sack, and a pint of Olives to the Unicorn. Above, within. Why drawer? Boy. Anon, anon. Another Boy. Look into the Nags-head there. 2 Boy. Score a quart of Claret to the Bar, And a pound of Sausages into the Flower-pot.

1 Serv. The Devil's in their throats; anon, anon.

2 Ser. Mull a pint of Sack there for the women in the Flower-deluce, and put in ginger enough, they belch like potguns, And Robin fetch Tobacco for the Peacock, they will not be Drunk till mid-night else: how now, how does my Master? 2 Boy. Faith he lyes drawing on a pace. 1 Boy. That's an ill sign. 2 Boy. And fumbles with the pots too. 1 Boy. Then there's no way but one with him. 2 Boy. All the rest, Except the Captain, are in Limbo patrum, Where they lye sod in sack. 1 Boy. Does he bear up still? 2 Boy. Afore the wind still, with his lights up bravely, All he takes in I think he turns to Juleps, Or h'as a world of Stowage in his belly, The rest look all like fire-drakes, and lye scatter'd Like rushes round about the room. My Master Is now the loving'st man, I think, above ground. 1 Boy. Would he were always drunk then. Within. Drawer. 2 Boy. Anon, anon Sir. 1 Boy. And swears I shall be free to morrow, and so weeps And calls upon my Mistris. 2 Boy. Then he's right. 1 Boy. And swears the Captain must lye this night with her And bad me break it to her with discretion, That he may leave an issue after him, Able to entertain a Dutch Ambassador, And tells him feelingly how sweet she is, And how he stole her from her friends i'th' Country; And brought her up disguiz'd with the Carriers, And was nine nights bereaving her her maidenhead, And the tenth got a drawer, here they come.

Within cry drawer. Anon, anon, speak to the Tyger, Peter. Host. There's my Bells boys, my silver Bell. Piso. Would he were hang'd As high as I could ring him. Host. Captain. Jac. Hoe Boy. Lod. Robin, sufficient single Beer, as cold as crystal, Quench Robin, quench. 1 Boy. I am gone Sir. Host. Shall we bear up still? Captain how I love thee! Sweet Captain let me kiss thee, by this hand I love thee next to Malmsey in a morning, Of all things transitory. Jac. I love thee too, as far as I can love a fat man. Host. Do'st thou Captain? Sweetly? and heartily? Jac. With all my heart Boy. Host. Then welcom death, come close mine eyes sweet Captain Thou shalt have all. Jac. What shall your wife have then? Host. Why she shall have besides my blessing, and a silver spoon, Enough to keep her stirring in the world, Three little Children, one of them was mine Upon my conscience, th' other two are Pagans. Jac. 'Twere good she had a little foolish mony, To rub the time away with. Host. Not a rag, Not a Deniere, no, let her spin a Gods name: And raise her house again. Jac. Thou shalt not dye though: Boy see your Master safe delivered, He's ready to lye in. Host. Good night. Jac. Good morrow, Drink till the Cow come home, 'tis all pay'd boyes. Lod. A pox of Sack. Host. Marry [God] bless my Buts, Sack is a Jewel, 'Tis comfortable, Gentlemen. Jac. More Beer boy, Very sufficient single Beer. Boy. Here Sir. How is it Gentlemen? Jac. But ev'n so, so. Host. Go before finely Robin, and prepare My wife, bid her be right and streight, I come boy. And Sirrah, if they quarrel, let 'em use Their own discretions, by all means, and stir not, And he that's kill'd shall be as sweetly buried; Captain, adieu, adieu sweet bully Captain, One kiss before I dye, one kiss. Jac. Farewel Boy. Host. All my sweet boys farewel. [Exit Host. Lod. Go sleep, you are drunk. Ja. Come gentlemen, I'le see you at your lodging, You look not lustily, a quart more. Lod. No Boy. Piso. Get us a Torch. Boy. 'Tis day Sir. Jac. That's all one. Piso. Are not those the stars, thou scurvy Boy? Lod. Is not Charles-wain there, tell me that, there? Jac. Yes; I have paid 'em truly: do not vex him Sirrah. Piso. Confess it Boy, or as I live I'le beat Mid-night into thy brains. Boy. I do confess it. Piso. Then live, and draw more small Beer presently. Jac. Come Boyes, let's hug together, and be loving, And sing, and do brave things cheerly my hearts, A pox o' being sad; now could I fly And turn the world about upon my finger, Come ye shall love me, I am an honest fellow: Hang care and fortune, we are friends. Lod. No Captain. Jac. Do not you love me? I love you two dearly. Piso. No by no means; you are a fighting Captain, And kill up such poor people as we are, by th' dozens. Lod. As they kill flyes with Fox-tails, Captain. Jac. Well Sir. Lod. Me thinks now as I stand, the Captain shews To be a very mercifull young man. (And pre'thee Piso, let me have thy opinion). Piso. Then he shall have mercy, that merciful is, Or all the Painters are Apocrypha. Jac. I am glad you have your wits yet, will ye go? Piso. You had best say we are drunk. Jac. Ye are. Lod. Ye lye. Jac. Y'are rascals, drunken rascals. Piso. 'Tis sufficient. Jac. And now I'le tell you why, before I beat ye, You have been tampring any time these three days, Thus to disgrace me. Piso. That's a lye too. Jac. Well Sir, Yet I thank fate I have turn'd your points on you, For which I'le spare ye somewhat, half a beating. Piso. I'le make you fart fire Captain, by this hand, And ye provoke, do not provoke I'de wish you. Jac. How do you like this? Lod. Sure I am inchanted. Piso. Stay till I draw. Jac. Dispatch then, I am angry. Piso. And thou shalt see how suddenly I'll kill thee. Jac. Thou darst not draw, ye cold, tame, mangy Cowards, Ye drunken Rogues, can nothing make you valiant? Not wine, nor beating? Lod. If this may be suffer'd, 'Tis very well. Jac. Go there's your way, go and sleep: I have pity on you, you shall have the rest To morrow when we meet. Piso. Come Lodowick, He's monstrous drunk now, there's no talking with him. Jac. I am so; when I am sober, I'le do more Boy where's mine Host? [Ex. Lod. and Piso. Boy. He's on his bed asleep Sir. [Ex. Boy. Jac. Let him alone then: now am I high proof For any action, now could I fight bravely, And charge into a wild fire; or I could love Any man living now, or any woman, Or indeed any creature that loves Sack Extreamly, monstrously; I am so loving, Just at this instant, that I might be brought I feel it, with a little labour, now to talk With a Justice of peace, that to my nature I hate next an ill Sword: I will do Some strange brave thing now, and I have it here: Pray Heaven the air keep out; I feel it buzzing. [Exit.