Val. Are you my sentence?

Mer. The sentence of your state.

Val. Let it be hang’d then, and let it be hang’d high enough, I may not see it.

Unc. A gracious resolution.

Val. What would you have else with me, will you go drink, and let the world slide, Uncle?  Ha, ha, ha, boyes, drink Sack like Whey, boyes.

Mer. Have you no feeling, Sir?

Val. Come hither Merchant:  make me a supper, thou most reverent Land-catcher, a supper of forty pounds.

Mer. What then, Sir?

Val. Then bring thy Wife along, and thy fair Sisters, thy Neighbours and their Wives, and all their trinkets, let me have forty Trumpets, and such Wine, we’ll laugh at all the miseries of Mortgage, and then in state I’le render thee an answer.

Mer. What say you to this?

Unc. I dare not say, nor think neither.

Mer. Will you redeem your state, speak to the point, Sir?

Pal. Not, not if it were mine heir in the Turks Gallies.

Mer. Then I must take an order?

Val. Take a thousand, I will not keep it, nor thou shalt not have it, because thou camest i’th’ nick, thou shalt not have it, go take possession, and be sure you hold it, hold fast with both hands, for there be those hounds uncoupled, will ring you such a knell, go down in glory, and march upon my land, and cry, All’s mine; cry as the Devil did, and be the Devil, mark what an Echo follows, build fine March-panes, to entertain Sir Silk-worm and his Lady, and pull the Chappel down, and raise a Chamber for Mistress Silver-pin, to lay her belly in, mark what an Earthquake comes.  Then foolish Merchant my Tenants are no Subjects, they obey nothing, and they are people too never Christened, they know no Law nor Conscience, they’ll devour thee; and thou mortal, the stopple, they’ll confound thee within three days; no bit nor memory of what thou wert, no not the Wart upon thy Nose there, shall be e’re heard of more; go take possession, and bring thy Children down, to rost like Rabbets, they love young Toasts and Butter, Bow-bell Suckers; as they love mischief, and hate Law, they are Cannibals; bring down thy kindred too, that be not fruitful, there be those Mandrakes that will mollifie ’em, go take possession.  I’le go to my Chamber, afore Boy go. [Exeunt.

Mer. He’s mad sure.

Unc. He’s half drunk sure:  and yet I like this unwillingness to lose it, this looking back.

Mer. Yes, if he did it handsomely, but he’s so harsh and strange.

Unc. Believe it ’tis his drink, Sir, and I am glad his drink has thrust it out.

Mer. Cannibals? if ever I come to view his Regiment, if fair terms may be had.

Unc. He tells you true, Sir, they are a bunch of the most boisterous Rascals disorder ever made, let ’em be mad once, the power of the whole Country cannot cool ’em, be patient but a while.