Grimes.  You being downe, on fell the Captain like a tyrannicall Dutch man of war that shewes no mercy to the yeelding enemy, and ere we could bring succor gave you these wounds, which being dark we brought you home as privately as possible, sett you to sleepe and here stayd till your waking.

Lov.  Yare honest fellowes; goe to and go to, I say and I sait agen, yare honest fellowes and shall not be unrewarded:  looke you, theres for you—­and be but sylent in’t.

Grimes.  As is my instrument, Sir.  Coods me! what, have they torne away the back of your satteen Doublet? the Canvas is seene.

Lov.  Umh, no, but they have stolne my velvet Jerkin.

Grimes.  I, and dam’d your Dublet.

Lov.  Tis well; goe; thanks; goe, Ile see you shortly; you and your Companie shall play at my ladyes wedding.  I say no more, goe to; I love you and I thanke you,

Grimes.  I thanke you, good Mr. Steward. [Discovers

Lov.  Whoes this? Grimes?

Grimes.  Even he that has thus begrimd yee, my fine drunken Steward.  I can cure you, toe; come, let me be your Surgion.

Lov.  Thou shalt be my hangman first, Rascall.

Grimes.  You wonnot murder? helpe Captain, Mr. Crackby, Tim!

Enter Omnes.

Omnes.  How now! how now! what’s the matter?

Lov.  Whoop! hell broke loose! tis good to shun the Divell.
          
                                                    [Exit.

Grimes.  Not if you meet him in the likenes of a bottle of Sack, good Steward.[92]

Tim.  Why this is excellent.

Suc.  Grimes, let me hugg thee, thou sonn of witt.

Grimes.  Nay, letts not leave him thus.

Crac.  Leade on, weele follow.

[Exeunt Omnes.

Finis Actus Secundi.

Actus Tertius.

(SCENE 1.)

    Enter Sir Geffry and Lady.

Sir Geff.  But I beseech you, Madam; what greater accession[93] can you wish then me for husband?  I have it here thats sattisfaction for the lustiest widdow twixt this and London.  Say, will you love me?  Ime in hast and hate demurrs; if you refuse I must seeke out:  I have a little moysture and would be loth to hav’t dride for want of exercise.—­What say you, lady?

Lady.  Sir, for your love I thanke you; for your wealth
I want it not; but yet I doe not find
A disposicon in my selfe to marriage.

Sir Geff.  That will not serve my turne; I am no knight
Who weares the spurr of honour without Rowells
To prick a woman forwards:  I ride post
To Marriage and resolve at the next stage
To take my Inn up.  You have here
Two beautifull young gallants to your daughters: 
Since youle not be my wife yet be my mother;
Ile marry any of them, which you please,
And hood her with the bagg [badge?] of honor.  Lady,
What say you to this motion.