_Piso._ Not a leak at Sea Can suck more liquor; you shall have their children Christened in mull'd sack, and at five years old, able To knock a _Dane_ down: Take an _English-man_ And cry St. _George_, and give him but a rasher, And you shall have him upon even terms Defy a hogshead; such a one would do it Home boy, and like a work-man: at what weapon? _Lod._ Sherry sack: I would have him drink stark dead If it were possible: at worst past portage. _Piso._ What is the end then? _Lod._ Dost thou not perceive it? If he be drunk dead, there's a fair end of him. If not, this is my end, or by enticing, Or by deceiving, to conduct him where The fool is, that admires him; and if sober, His nature be so rugged, what will't be When he is hot with wine? come let's about it, If this be done but handsomely, I'le pawn My head she hath done with Souldiers. _Piso._ This may do well. _Fat._ Here's a new way to murther men alive, I'le choak this train: God save ye Gentlemen. It is to you, stay: yes it is to you. _Lod._ What's to me? _Fath._ You are fortunate, I cannot stand to tell you more now, meet me Here soon, and you'l be made a man. [_Exit_ Father. _Lod._ What Vision's this? _Piso._ I know not. _Lod._ Well, I'le meet it, Think you o'th' other, and let me a while Dream of this fellow. _Piso._ For the Drunkard, _Lodovick_, Let me alone. _Lod._ Come, let's about it then. [_Exeunt._ SCENE III. _Enter_ Clora, _and_ Frank. _Clor._ Ha, ha, ha, pray let me laugh extreamly. _Fra._ Why? prethee why? hast thou such cause? _Clor._ Yes faith, my Brother will be here straightway, and-- _Fra._ What? _Clor._ The other party: ha, ha, ha. _Fra._ What party? Wench thou art not drunk? _Clor._ No faith. _Fra._ Faith thou hast been among the bottles _Clora_. _Clor._ Faith but I have not _Frank_: Prethee be handsom, The Captain comes along too, wench. _Fra._ O is that it That tickles ye? _Clor._ Yes, and shall tickle you too, You understand me? _Fran._ By my troth thou art grown A strange lewd wench: I must e'ne leave thy company, Thou wilt spoil me else. _Clor._ Nay, thou art spoil'd to my hand; Hadst thou been free, as a good wench ought to be, When I went first a birding for thy Love, And roundly said, that is the man must do it, I had done laughing many an hour agoe. _Fra._ And what dost thou see in him, now thou knowst him To be thus laught at? _Clor._ Prethee be not angry And I'le speak freely to thee. _Fran._ Do, I will not. _Clor._ Then as I hope to have a handsom husband, This fellow in mine eye, (and _Frank_ I am held To have a shrewd ghess at a pretty fellow) Appears a strange thing.