The Scornful Lady Part 7
_Elder Lo._ Too sure Sir.
_Young Lo._ I but art thou very certainly sure of it?
_Elder Lo._ As sure Sir, as I tell it.
_Young Lo._ But art thou sure he came not up again?
_Elder Lo._ He may come up, but ne're to call you Brother.
_Young Lo._ But art sure he had water enough to drown him?
_Elder Lo._ Sure Sir, he wanted none.
_Young Lo._ I would not have him want, I lov'd him better; here I forgive thee: and i'faith be plain, how do I bear it?
_Elder Lo._ Very wisely Sir.
_Young Lo_. Fill him some wine. Thou dost not see me mov'd, these transitorie toyes ne're trouble me, he's in a better place, my friend I know't. Some fellows would have cryed now, and have curst thee, and faln out with their meat, and kept a pudder; but all this helps not, he was too good for us, and let G.o.d keep him: there's the right use on't friend. Off with thy drink, thou hast a spice of sorrow makes thee dry: fill him another. _Savill_, your Master's dead, and who am I now _Savill_? Nay, let's all bear it well, wipe _Savill_ wipe, tears are but thrown away: we shall have wenches now, shall we not _Savill_?
_Savill_. Yes Sir.
_Young Lo_. And drink innumerable.
_Savil_. Yes forsooth.
_Young Lo_. And you'll strain curtsie and be drunk a little?
_Savil_. I would be glad, Sir, to doe my weak endeavour.
_Yo. Lo_. You may be brought in time to love a wench too.
_Savil_. In time the st.u.r.die Oak Sir.
_Young Lo_. Some more wine for my friend there.
_Elder Lo_. I shall be drunk anon for my good news: but I have a loving Brother, that's my comfort.
_Youn[g] Lo_. Here's to you Sir, this is the worst I wish you for your news: and if I had another elder Brother, and say it were his chance to feed Haddocks, I should be still the same you see me now, a poor contented Gentleman. More wine for my friend there, he's dry again.
_Elder Lo_. I shall be if I follow this beginning. Well my dear Brother, if I scape this drowning, 'tis your turn next to sink, you shall duck twice before I help you. Sir I cannot drink more; pray let me have your pardon.
_Young Lo_. O Lord Sir, 'tis your modestie: more wine, give him a bigger gla.s.s; hug him my Captain, thou shalt be my chief mourner.
_Capt_. And this my pennon: Sir, a full carouse to you, and to my Lord of Land here.
_Elder Lo_. I feel a buzzing in my brains, pray G.o.d they bear this out, and I'le ne're trouble them so far again. Here's to you Sir.
_Young Lo_. To my dear Steward, down o' your knees you infidel, you Pagan; be drunk and penitent.
_Savil._ Forgive me Sir, and I'le be any thing.
_Young Lo._ Then be a Baud, I'le have thee a brave Baud.
_Elder Lo._ Sir, I must take my leave of you, my business is so urgent.
_Young Lo._ Let's have a bridling cast before you go. Fill's a new stoupe.
_Elder Lo._ I dare not Sir, by no means.
_Young Lo._ Have you any mind to a wench? I would fain gratifie you for the pains you took Sir.
_Elder Lo._ As little as to the t'other.
_Young Lo._ If you find any stirring do but say so.
_Elder Lo._ Sir, you are too bounteous, when I feel that itching, you shall a.s.swage it Sir, before another: this only and Farewell Sir. Your Brother when the storm was most extream, told all about him, he left a will which lies close behind a Chimney in the matted Chamber: and so as well Sir, as you have made me able, I take my leave.
_Young Lo._ Let us imbrace him all: if you grow drie before you end your business, pray take a baite here, I have a fresh hogshead for you.
_Savil._ You shall neither will nor chuse Sir. My Master is a wonderfull fine Gentleman, has a fine state, a very fine state Sir, I am his Steward Sir, and his man.
_Elder Lo._ Would you were your own sir, as I left you. Well I must cast about, or all sinks.
_Savil._ Farewell Gentleman, Gentleman, Gentleman.
_Elder Lo._ What would you with me sir?
_Savil._ Farewell Gentleman.
_Elder Lo._ O sleep Sir, sleep. [_Exit_ Elder Lo.
_Young Lo._ Well boyes, you see what's faln, let's in and drink, and give thanks for it.
_Capt._ Let's give thanks for it.
_Young Lo._ Drunk as I live.
_Savil._ Drunk as I live boyes.
_Young Lo._ Why, now thou art able to discharge thine office, and cast up a reckoning of some weight; I will be knighted, for my state will bear it, 'tis sixteen hundred boyes: off with your husks, I'le skin you all in Sattin.
_Capt._ O sweet _Loveless_!
_Savil._ All in Sattin? O sweet _Loveless_!
_Young Lo_. March in my n.o.ble Compeeres: and this my Countess shall be led by two: and so proceed we to the Will.
[_Exeunt._
_Enter_ Morecraft _the_ Usurer, _and_ Widow.