_Enter_ HARVEY, _brought in a chair_, MOORE, BROWN, ALVARO, VANDAL, DELION, _and_ FRISCO. PIS. Lift softly, good my friends, for hurting him. Look cheerly, sir, you're welcome to my house. Hark, Monsieur Vandal and my other sons, Seem to be sad, as grieving for his sickness, But inwardly rejoice. [_Aside._] Monsieur Vandal, Signor Alvaro, Monsieur Delion, Bid my friend welcome, pray, bid him welcome. Take a good heart; I doubt not, by God's leave, You shall recover and do well enough. If I should think so, I should hang myself. [_Aside._ Frisco, go bid Marina come to me. [_Exit_ FRISCO. You are a witness, sir, of this man's will: What think you, Master Moore, what say you to't? MOORE. Master Pisaro, follow mine advice: You see the gentleman cannot escape, Then let him straight be wedded to your daughter: So, during lifetime, she shall hold his land, When now (being not kith nor kin to him) For all the deed of gift that he hath seal'd, His younger brother will enjoy the land.[541] PIS. Marry my daughter! No, by'r Lady! Hear you, Alvaro, my friend counsels me, Seeing young Master Harvey is so sick, To marry him incontinent to my daughter, Or else the gift he hath bestow'd is vain. Marry, and he recover? No, my son, I will not lose thy love for all his land. ALV. Hear you, padre, do no lose his lands, his hundred pond per anno, 'tis wort to avar; let him have de Maitress Marina in de marriage, 'tis but vor me to attendre one day more. If he will no die, I sal give him sush a drinck, sush a potion, sal mak him give de bonos noches to all de world. [_Aside._ PIS. Alvaro, here's my keys; take all I have, My money, plate, wealth, jewels, daughter too. Now, God be thanked, that I have a daughter Worthy to be Alvaro's bed-fellow. O, how I do admire and praise thy wit! I'll straight about it. Hear you, Master Moore? _Enter_ MARINA _and_ FRISCO. FRIS. Nay, faith, he's sick; therefore, though he be come, yet he can do you no good. There's no remedy, but even to put yourself into the hands of the Italian, that by that time that he hath pass'd his growth, young Harvey will be in case to come upon it with a sise of fresh force. [_Exit._ MAR. Is my love come, and sick? Ay, now thou lov'st me, How my heart joys! O God! get I my will, I'll drive away that sickness with a kiss. I need not feign, for I could weep for joy. [_Aside._