_Sav_. 'Tis much.
_Tra_. I have seen more Sir.
_Sav_. 'Tis even enough o' Conscience; sit down, and rest you, you are at
the end of the world already. Would you had as good a Living Sir, as this
fellow could lie you out of, he has a notable gift in't.
_Young Lo_. This ministers the smoak, and this the Muses.
_Sav_. And you the Cloaths, and Meat, and Money, you have a goodly
generation of 'em, pray let them multiply, your Brother's house is big
enough, and to say truth, h'as too much Land, hang it durt.
_Young Lo_. Why now thou art a loving stinkard. Fire off thy Annotations
and thy Rent-books, thou hast a weak brain _Savil_, and with the next long
Bill thou wilt run mad. Gentlemen, you are once more welcome to three
hundred pounds a year; we will be freely merry, shall we not?
_Capt_. Merry as mirth and wine, my lovely _Loveless_.
_Poet_. A serious look shall be a Jury to excommunicate any man from our
company.
_Tra_. We will not talk wisely neither?
_Young Lo_. What think you Gentlemen by all this Revenue in Drink?
_Capt_. I am all for Drink.
_Tra_. I am dry till it be so.
_Poet_. He that will not cry Amen to this, let him live sober, seem wise,
and dye o'th' _Coram_.
_Young Lo_. It shall be so, we'l have it all in Drink, let Meat and
Lodging go, they are transitory, and shew men meerly mortal: then we'l
have Wenches, every one his Wench, and every week a fresh one: we'l keep
no powdered flesh: all these we have by warrant, under the title of things
necessary.
Pages:
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29