JACK. Will,[106] hold this railing knave with a talk, when I am gone: I will fetch him his filling ale for his good sermon. [_Exit._ WILL. Go thy way, Father Grim, gaily well you do say, It is but young men’s folly, that list to play, And mask awhile in the net of their own device; When they come to your age, they will be wise. GRIM. Bum troth, but few such roisters come to my years at this day; They be cut off betimes, ere they have gone half their journey: I will not tell why: let them guess that can, I mean somewhat thereby. _Enter_ JACK _with a pot of wine, and a cup to drink on._ JACK. Father Grim, because you are stirring so early, I have brought you a bowl of wine to make you merry. GRIM. Wine, marry! this is welcome to colliers, chill swap’t off by and by: Chwas stirring so early, that my very soul is dry. JACK. This is stoutly done: will you have it warmed, Father Grim? GRIM. No; it is warm enough; it is very lousious[107] and trim. ’Tis musselden,[108] ich ween; of fellowship let me have another spurt, Ich can drink as easily now, as if I satin my shirt. JACK. By Cock, and you shall have it; but I will begin, and that anon, _Je bois a vous mon compagnon_.[109] GRIM. _J’ai vous pleigé, petit Zawne._[110] JACK. Can you speak French? here is a trim collier, by this day! GRIM. What man! ich learned this, when ich was a soldier; When ich was a lusty fellow, and could yerk a whip trimly, Better than these boy-colliers, that come to the court daily: When there were[111] not so many captious fellows as now, That would torup[112] men for every trifle, I wot not how: As there was one Damon, not long since taken for a spy; How justly I know not, but he was condemned to die. WILL (_aside._) This wine hath warmed him, this comes well to pass, We shall know all now, for in _Vino veritas_. Father Grim, who accused this Damon to King Dionysius? GRIM. A vengeance take him! ’twas a gentleman, one Master Crowsphus. WILL. Crowsphus! you clip the king’s language, you would have said Carisophus. But I perceive now either the wind is at the south, Or else your tongue cleaveth to the roof of your mouth. GRIM. A murrain take thilk wine, it so intoxicate my brain, That to be hanged by and by I cannot speak plain. JACK. You speak knavishly plain, seeing my master you do mock: In faith, ere you go, I will make you a lobcock. [_Aside._ Father Grim, what say they of this Damon abroad? GRIM. All men are sorry for him, so help me God. They say a false knave ’cused him to the king wrongfully; And he is gone, and should be here to-morrow to die, Or else his fellow, which is in prison, his room shall supply. Chill not be his half for vorty shillings, I tell you plain, I think Damon be too wise to return again. WILL. Will no man speak for them in this woful case?