_Tho._ Your weasel face must needs be ferretting About the Farthing-ale; Do as I bid ye, Or by this light-- _Hyl._ Come then. _Thom._ Stand close and mark me. _Fran._ All this forc'd foolery will never do it. _Enter_ Alice _and_ Mary. _Ali._ I hope we bring ye health, Sir: how is't with ye? _Ma._ You look far better trust me, the fresh colour Creeps now again into his cheeks. _Ali._ Your enemy I see has done his worst. Come, we must have ye Lusty again, and frolick man; leave thinking. _Ma._ Indeed it does ye harm, Sir. _Fran._ My best visitants, I shall be govern'd by ye. _Ali._ You shall be well then, And suddenly, and soundly well. _Ma._ This Air, Sir, Having now season'd ye, will keep ye ever. _Tho._ No, no, I have no hope, nor is it fit friends, My life has been so lewd, my loose condition, Which I repent too late, so lamentable, That any thing but curses light upon me, Exorbitant in all my wayes. _Ali._ Who's that, Sir, Another sick man? _Ma._ Sure I know that voice well. _Tho._ In all my courses, careless disobedience. _Fran._ What a strange fellow's this? _Tho._ No counsel friends, No look before I leapt. _Ali._ Do you know the voyce, Sir? _Fra._ Yes, 'tis a Gentlemans that's much afflicted In's mind: great pity Ladies. _Ali._ Now heaven help him. _Fra._ He came to me, to ask free pardon of me, For some things done long since, which his distemper Made to appear like wrong, but 'twas not so. _Ma._ O that this could be truth. _Hyl._ Perswade your self. _Tho._ To what end Gentlemen, when all is perish'd Upon a wrack, is there a hope remaining? The Sea, that ne'r knew sorrow, may be pitiful, My credit's split, and sunk, nor is it possible, Were my life lengthened out as long as-- _Ma._ I like this well. _Sam._ Your mind is too mistrustful. _Tho._ I have a vertuous Sister, but I scorn'd her, A Mistris too, a noble Gentlewoman, For goodness all out-going. _Alice._ Now I know him. _Tho._ With these eyes friends, my eyes must never see more. _Alice._ This is for your sake _Mary_: take heed Cousin, A man is not so soon made. _Tho._ O my fortune! But it is just, I be despis'd and hated. _Hyl._ Despair not, 'tis not manly: one hours goodness Strikes off an infinite of ills. _Alice._ Weep truly And with compassion, Cousin. _Fra._ How exactly This cunning young Thief playes his part! _Ma._ Well _Tom_, My _Tom_ again, if this be truth. _Hyl._ She weeps Boy. _Tho._ O I shall die. _Ma._ Now Heaven defend. _Sam._ Thou hast her. _Tho._ Come lead me to my Friend to take his farewel, And then what fortune shall befal me, welcome, How does it show? _Hyl._ O rarely well. _Ma._ Say you so, Sir.