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than they coulde drinke they grew sober, the contented Cuckold tooke his wife home againe and all were good frends[89]. [_Sease Musicke_] But stay, the musikes husht; I hope theyle appeare; I doe feale no such paine in my wounds that I had need of musicke to bring me to sleepe. Blesse me whose this? ha[90]! _Enter Grimes disguised_. _Grimes_. How does your worshipp? Mr. Steward, dee feele your selfe at ease? I am hartely sorry for your misfortune? _Lov_. Misfortune? ha, what misfortune? now heaven and't be thy will-- _Grimes_. Pray heaven they be alive. _Lov_. Ha, alive? in the name of drinke what have I don? where did you find me, ha? _Grimes_. Why, sir, comming out--umh, umh-- _Lov_. Out with't, man. _Grimes_. Out of a bad-house, sir. _Lov_. A Bawdie house, I warrant. _Grimes_. Yes sir. _Lov_. Why, now its out. _Grimes_. I, and tis well your worships out. _Lov_. Noe, noe, it had bin better had I never gon in; but on, on. _Grimes_. You were, sir,--as they say, sir--you had gotten a Cup to much. _Lov_. Hang Cupps, my friend excepted; goe to; speake plaine; I was drunke was I? _Grimes_. Yes, sir; you were not able to stand when you came out, sir? _Lov_. Out of the Bawdy-house? I beleave thee; nay, I am a right _Lovell_ I, I look like a shotten herring now for't. _Jone's_ as good as my lady in the darke wee me. I have no more Roe than a goose in me; but on to the mischiefe, on. _Grimes_. You beate the Bawd downe with the Chamber dore and bade her keepe that for the Reckoning. _Lov_. Umh, there was witt in my drinke, I perceive; on. _Grimes_. Then, sir, you tooke up a Spitt. _Lov_. A Spitt? _Grimes_. Yes, sir, and broacht one of the wenches out. _Lov_. How? _Grimes_. Oh, sir, you made such a hole in her bakside[91] you might have turnd-- [_Blows his nose_. _Lov_. What? thy nose int? _Grimes_. Had I been there it had been at your service. _Lov_. Thanke thee; thou shouldst have lost nothing by it. _Grimes_. Then went Tobackoe pipes to wrack, and oh the black potts sufferd without measure; nay, you swore (and for it paid your twelve pence) that if you were maior youd come disguisd on purpose to confou[nd] 'um. _Lov_. Ist possible I could doe this? _Grimes_. This, sir? Why you kickd one flat-nosd wench that snuffled, and swore she was a puritan. _Lov_. Did not I pay for that oath too? _Grimes_. No, sir; you bid the Constable keepe
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