[Daunce.

Grimes.  Well don, my hearts; drinke, drinke.

Suc.  Goe you in, Ile follow you.

Om[nes].  Come, Captaine.

Suc.  Farewell, Steward.

Mus.  Dee heare, Captaine?

Suc.  With me, my fine treble knave? umh, thou dost tickle minikin as nimbly—­

Mus.  We hope your worship will consider our paines?

Suc.  How, my fine knave? letts see, who were the dauncers?

Mus.  Come forward there! nay, I told you he was ever bountifull:  oh, good Captaine!

Suc.  Let me see:  I, thou art hart of vallor:  thou didst daunce well, thou deservest—­, I say no more:  and who played?

Mus.  Wee.

Suc.  You? well sayd; you plaid and you daunc’d, you say good; let me see, halfe a peece or—­

Mus.  Blesse your Captaineship.

Suc.  You plaid, you say, and you dauncd:  umh, well, why then you that dauncd must pay those that plaid.

Mus.  How, sir, how?

Suc.  Ever, ever, whilst you live, Jarvice;[87] the dauncers alwayes payes the musike.  Wilt breake custome?  No, or there a pawne for you.  —­Mr. Steward.  Farewell. [Exit.

Mus.  This is your bountifull Captaine! a rope of his bounsing!  But stay, lets play to the steward; it may be when he wakes we may worke him to’t.

Omnes.  Content, content. [Musike softe.

Lov.  Umh[88], play a healthe:  soe; say, it shall goe rounde:  goe to, I say and I sayt, it shall goe round.  Umh, where is this fidle? in the ayre?  I can perceave nothing.  Where is my kinde friend and my fine companion? come, we will be friends again; goe to, we will.  Umh, plaistered and bound up? bloody? how comes this? goe too and goe to; if I have done any mischiefe or bene over valiant in my drinke to kill a man or soe, why ’twas in my drinke, not I, and let my drinke be hangd for’t; or, I say and I sayt, let um stay till I am drunke againe and then hange me; I care not, I shall not be sensible of it.  Oh this sack! it makes a coward a Hector:  the Greekes and Troians drinke no other; and that and a wench (for theres the divell out) made um cuffe ten yeares together, till at length when they had bled more than they coulde drinke they grew sober, the contented Cuckold tooke his wife home againe and all were good frends[89]. [Sease Musicke] But stay, the musikes husht; I hope theyle appeare; I doe feale no such paine in my wounds that I had need of musicke to bring me to sleepe.  Blesse me whose this? ha[90]!

    Enter Grimes disguised.

Grimes.  How does your worshipp?  Mr. Steward, dee feele your selfe at ease?  I am hartely sorry for your misfortune?

Lov.  Misfortune? ha, what misfortune? now heaven and’t be thy will—­