FEE. Dare I not, sir? WELL. Well said; speak to him, man. FEE. You had best try me, sir. SPILL. We four will drink four healths to four of the seven deadly sins, pride, drunkenness, wrath, and lechery. FEE. I'll pledge 'em, and I thank you; I know 'em all. Here's one. WHORE. Which of the sins? FEE. By my troth, even to pride. WELL. Why, well said; and in this do not you only pledge your mistress's health, but all the women's in the world. FEE. So: now this little cup to wrath, because he and I are strangers. TEAR. Brave boy! damn me, he shall be a roarer. FEE. Damn me, I will be a roarer, or't shall cost me a fall. BOTS. The next place that falls, pray, let him have it. FEE. Well, I have two of my healths to drink yet--lechery and drunkenness, which even shall go together. WELL. Why, how now, my lord, a moralist? BOTS. Damn me, art thou a lord? what virtues hast thou? FEE. Virtues? enough to keep e'er a damn-me company in England: methinks you should think it virtue enough to be a lord. WHORE. Will not you pledge these healths, Master Welltried? we'll have no observers. WELL. Why, Monsieur Whorebang? I am no playmaker[108], and, for pledging your healths, I love none of the four you drank to so well. SPILL. Zounds! you shall pledge me this. WELL. Shall I? FEE. What's the matter? dost hear, Master Welltried, use thine own discretion; if thou wilt not pledge him, say so, and let me see if e'er a damn-me of 'em all will force thee. SPILL. Puff! will your lordship take any tobacco? you lord with the white face. BOTS. Heart! he cannot put it through his nose. FEE. Faith, you have ne'er a nose to put it through; d'ye hear I blow your face, sirrah. TEAR. You'll pledge me, sir? WELL. Indeed, I will not. FEE. Damn me, he shall not then.[109] TEAR. Lord, use your own words, _damn me_ is mine; I am known by it all the town o'er, d'ye hear? FEE. It is as free for me as you, d'ye hear, Patch?[110] TEAR. I have paid more for't. WELL. Nay, I'll bear him witness in a truth: his soul lies for't,[111] my lord. SPILL. Welltried, you are grown proud since you got good clothes and have followed your lord. [_Strikes, and they scuffle._ WHORE. I have known you lousy, Welltried. WELL. Roarer, you lie. [_Draw and fight; throw pots and stools._ DRAWER. O Jesu! ALL SWAGGERERS. Zounds! cleave or be cleft: pell-mell: slash arms and legs. FEE. Heart! let me alone with 'em. [_Break off, and exeunt all the_ SWAGGERERS. WELL. Why, now thou art a worthy wight, indeed, a Lord of Lorn.[112] FEE. I am a madman: look, is not that one of their heads? WELL. Fie! no, my lord. FEE. Damn me, but 'tis; I would not wish you to cross me a'purpose: if you have anything to say to me, so--I am ready. WELL. O brave lord! many a roarer thus is made by wine. Come, it is one of their heads, my lord. FEE. Why so, then, I will have my humour. If you love me, let's go break windows somewhere.