_Grimes_, ty this cloath about his head: oh, for some
blood!

_Grimes_. Here, I have prickt my finger.

_Tim_. Let you and I, Mr. _Crackby_, goe to buffitts for a bloody nose.

_Crac_. No, no, you shall pardon me for that, _Tim_[82]; no, no; no
boyes play.

_Suc_. So, so; now set him in the chaires. Hart of valour! he looks like
a Mapp oth world. Death, what are these?[83]

_Enter Musike_.

_Grimes_. The Town Waites whome I appointed to come and visitt us.

_Suc_. 'Twas well donn: have you ere a good song?

_Tim_. Yes, they have many.

_Suc_. But are they bawdy? come, sir, I see by your simpring it is you
that sings, but do not squeake like a _French_ Organ-pipe nor make faces
as if you were to sing a Dirge. Your fellowes may goe behind the arras:
I love to see Musitions in their postures imitate those ayrey soules
that grace our Cittie Theaters, though in their noats they come as short
of them as _Pan_ did of _Apollo_.
[_Musike_.

_Grimes_. Well, sir, this is indifferent Musicke, trust my judgment.
Sing, boy.
[_A song_.

_Crac_. Now on my life this boy does sing as like the boy[84] at the
_Whitefryers_ as ever I heard: how say you Captain?

_Suc_. I, and the Musicks like theires: come, Sirra, whoes your Poett?

_Crac_. Some mad wag, I warrant him: is this a new song?

_Mus_. Tis the first edition, sir: none else but we had ever coppie
of it.

_Suc_. But you wilbe intreated to let a gent have it?

_Mus_. By no meanes; the author has sworne to the contrary, least it
should grow so wonderous old and turne a Ballad.

_Crac_. Well said, Captain; the tother health, Captain: heres good wine,
good Tobackoe, good everything: had we but a good wench or two twere
excellent.

_Suc_. Great _Alexander_, does not dreame of this, I warrant yee.

_Grimes_. Oh, hees fast enough; heele be ready to cast up his accounts
the easier when my lady calls him.

_Crac_. Come, come; who payes the Musicke? Captain, you have my purse.

_Suc_. Truths a truth from Infidell or Pagan: I am in trust, and that's
beleife, and so it shalbe saved. Pay the Musick? umh, where are they?
let me see, how many's of you, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6: good, can any of you
daunce?

_Mus_. Daunce? Yes, sir, we can shake our legs or soe.

_Suc_. So said so don, brave ladd; come, letts have a daunce, some
daunce and some play.

_Mus_