cry anon,
What other copes-mates have you in the house?

DRA. Sir, my master's gues's[504] be none of my copesmates.

JOHN. Well, your gues's! can you guess who they be?

DRA. Marry, here's a pursuivant, that this gentleman, sir, Richard
Fauconbridge, left sick even now.

FAU. Marry of God, did I, thou lying knave?

DRA. I am a poor boy, sir; your worship may say your pleasure; our
maids have had a foul hand with him. You said he would be sick; so he
is, with a witness.

JOHN. Look about, Fauconbridge, here's work for you!
You have some evil angel in your shape.
Go, sirrah, bring us forth that Pursuivant.

_Enter two, leading the_ PURSUIVANT, _sick_.

RICH. Gloster, thou wilt be too-too venturous;
Thou dost delight in those odd humours so,
That much I fear they'll be thy overthrow. [_Aside_.

PUR. O, O, O, not too fast; O, I am sick, O, very sick.

JOHN. What picture of the pestilence is this?

PUR. A poor man, sir, a poor man, sir: down, I pray ye; I pray, let me
sit down. Ah, Sir Richard, Sir Richard! Ah, good Sir Richard! what, have
I deserv'd to be thus dealt withal at your worship's hands? Ah! ah! ah!

FAU. At my hands, knave? at my hands, paltry knave?

DRA. And I should be brought to my book-oath, sir.

WITHIN. What, Jeffrey?

DRA. Anon, anon.

JOHN. A plague upon your Jeffring; is your name Jeffrey?

DRA. Ay, and't please you, sir.

RICH. Why, gentle Jeffrey, then stay you awhile,
What can you say, if you come to your book?

DRA. If I be pos'd upon a book, sir, though I be a poor 'prentice,
I must speak the truth, and nothing but the truth, sir.

JOHN. And what's your truth, sir?

PUR. O, O my heart.

DRA. Marry, sir, this knight, this man of worship--

FAU. Well, what of me? what did my worship do?

DRA. Marry, ye came into the Bell--our room next the bar--with this
honest man, as I take it.

FAU. As thou tak'st it?

PUR. O, sir, 'tis too true, too true, too true. O Lord.

DRA. And there he call'd for a pint of sack, as good sack (I'll be pos'd
upon all the books that ever opened and shut), as any in all Christendom.

FAU. Body of me, I come and call for sack?

PUR. O, ye did, ye did, ye did. O, O.

JOHN. Well, forward, sirrah.

RICH. Gloster hath done this jest. [_Aside_.

DRA. And you call'd then for sugar, sir, as good sugar and as wholesome,
as ever came in any cup of sack: you drank to this man, and you do well,
God be thanked--but he no sooner drank--