The Scornful Lady | Page 9

right one.
Elder Lo. He promises no less Sir.
Young Lo. Sir, your business?
Elder Lo. Sir, I should let you know, yet I am loth, yet I am sworn to't,
would some other tongue would speak it for me.
Young Lo. Out with it i' Gods name.
Elder Lo. All I desire Sir is, the patience and sufferance of a man, and
good Sir be not mov'd more.
Young Lo. Then a pottle of sack will doe, here's my hand, prethee thy
business?
Elder Lo. Good Sir excuse me, and whatsoever you hear, think must
have been known unto you, and be your self discreet, and bear it nobly.
Young Lo. Prethee dispatch me.

Elder Lo. Your Brother's dead Sir.
Young Lo. Thou dost not mean dead drunk?
Elder Lo. No, no, dead and drown'd at sea Sir.
Young Lo. Art sure he's dead?
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 God 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 sturdie 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
glass; 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 God 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
asswage 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