Act. 5. Scaen 8.
Give me thy hand i'faith, boy: is't possible that thou shouldst be alive still?
Ha rogue! art thou come i'faith? I have a pottle o' Sack to welcome thee.
Why you'll not look upon your poor friends, John Give me thy golls, John. How hast thou done this great while?
I thank you all heartily for your love; thank you with all my heart-law. What? my old bed-fellow Robin? how dost do? when shall we steal Apricocks ag•in? d'ye remem∣ber, Robin?
A murrain take you; you'll never forget your roguery.
A murrain take you all: this was your plot, and be hang'd▪ Would I were Puny the Wit again.
Accursed Fate—
Come, John, let's go to the Buttry and be merry: Ralph longs to see you, I'm sure.
And how does Ralph? good honest Ralph? That Ralp's as honest a fellow, though I say't my self; I love him with all my heart-law, that I do; and there's no love lost, I dare say for him.
Come, my masters, will you go in? I'll prevail with the Cook for a slice or two of Beef; and we'll have a cup of Stingo, the best in the ce•lar.
Well said, steel to the back still; that was your word, you know. My master•s com∣ing in: go. I'll follow you straight.
Make haste, good John, for I can't stay.
Here's a company of as honest fel∣lows a•sa ma• would with to live i' the house withal; all, no man excepted▪
Would I were out of the house, as honest as they are. Here they come, John.
John, quoth he, with a pox.