that? The man that cryes consider is our foe: let my steel know him.

_Young Lo_. Stay thy dead doing hand, he must not die yet: prethee be
calm my _Hector_.

_Capt_. Peasant slave, thou groom compos'd of grudgings, live and thank
this Gentleman, thou hadst seen _Pluto_ else. The next consider kills
thee.

_Trav_. Let him drink down his word again in a gallon of Sack.

_Poet_. 'Tis but a snuffe, make it two gallons, and let him doe it
kneeling in repentance.

_Savil_. Nay rather kill me, there's but a lay-man lost. Good Captain doe
your office.

_Young Lo_. Thou shalt drink Steward, drink and dance my Steward. Strike
him a horn-pipe squeakers, take thy striver, and pace her till she stew.

_Savil_. Sure Sir, I cannot dance with your Gentlewomen, they are too
light for me, pray break my head, and let me goe.

_Capt_. He shall dance, he shall dance.

_Young Lo_. He shall dance, and drink, and be drunk and dance, and be
drunk again, and shall see no meat in a year.

_Poet._ And three quarters?

_Young Lo._ And three quarters be it.

_Capt._ Who knocks there? let him in.

_Enter_ Elder Loveless _disguised._

_Savill._ Some to deliver me I hope.

_Elder Lo._ Gentlemen, God save you all, my business is to one Master
_Loveless_?

_Capt._ This is the Gentleman you mean; view him, and take his Inventorie,
he's a 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._ Su