. Anything to please you, noble Captaine.

_Suc_. Lively then, my hearts; some country Jigg or soe. Oh those playes
that I have seene of youre, with their Jiggs[85] ith tayles of them[86]
like your French forces! Death, I am a rorging (roaring?) boy; but,
come, stir your shanks nimbly or Ile hough ye. Strike up there!

[_Daunce_.

_Grimes_. Well don, my hearts; drinke, drinke.

_Suc_. Goe you in, Ile follow you.

_Om[nes]_. Come, Captaine.

_Suc_. Farewell, Steward.

_Mus_. Dee heare, Captaine?

_Suc_. With me, my fine treble knave? umh, thou dost tickle minikin
as nimbly--

_Mus_. We hope your worship will consider our paines?

_Suc_. How, my fine knave? letts see, who were the dauncers?

_Mus_. Come forward there! nay, I told you he was ever bountifull: oh,
good Captaine!

_Suc_. Let me see: I, thou art hart of vallor: thou didst daunce well,
thou deservest--, I say no more: and who played?

_Mus_. Wee.

_Suc_. You? well sayd; you plaid and you daunc'd, you say good; let me
see, halfe a peece or--

_Mus_. Blesse your Captaineship.

_Suc_. You plaid, you say, and you dauncd: umh, well, why then you that
dauncd must pay those that plaid.

_Mus_. How, sir, how?

_Suc_. Ever, ever, whilst you live, _Jarvice_;[87] the dauncers alwayes
payes the musike. Wilt breake custome? No, or there a pawne for you.
--Mr. Steward. Farewell. [_Exit_.

_Mus_. This is your bountifull Captaine! a rope of his bounsing! But
stay, lets play to the steward; it may be when he wakes we may worke
him to't.

_Omnes_. Content, content. [_Musike softe_.

_Lov_. Umh[88], play a healthe: soe; say, it shall goe rounde: goe to,
I say and I sayt, it shall goe round. Umh, where is this fidle? in the
ayre? I can perceave nothing. Where is my kinde friend and my fine
companion? come, we will be friends again; goe to, we will. Umh,
plaistered and bound up? bloody? how comes this? goe too and goe to; if
I have done any mischiefe or bene over valiant in my drinke to kill a
man or soe, why 'twas in my drinke, not I, and let my drinke be hangd
for't; or, I say and I sayt, let um stay till I am drunke againe and
then hange me; I care not, I shall not be sensible of it. Oh this sack!
it makes a coward a _Hector_: the _Greekes_ and _Troians_ drinke no
other; and that and a wench (for theres the divell out) made um cuffe
ten yeares together, till at length when they had bled more