Not a denier left, and yet my heart leaps; I do wonder yet, as old as I am, that any man will follow a trade, or serve, that may sing and laugh, and walk the streets. My wife and both my sons are I know not where; I have nothing left, nor know I how to come by meat to supper, yet am I merry still; for I know I shall find it upon the table at six o'clock; therefore, hang thought. "I would not be a serving-man To carry the cloak-bag still, Nor would I be a falconer The greedy hawks to fill; But I would be in a good house, And have a good master too; But I would eat and drink of the best, And no work would I do." This is it that keeps life and soul together, mirth. This is the philosopher's stone that they write so much on, that keeps a man ever young. _Enter a_ BOY. _Boy._ Sir, they say they know all your money is gone, and they will trust you for no more drink. _Old Mer._ Will they not? Let 'em choose. The best is, I have mirth at home, and need not send abroad for that. Let them keep their drink to themselves. "For Jillian of Berry, she dwells on a hill, And she hath good beer and ale to sell, And of good fellows she thinks no ill, And thither will we go now, now, now, and thither will we go now. And when you have made a little stay, You need not know what is to pay, But kiss your hostess and go your way. And thither, &c." _Enter another_ BOY. _2nd Boy._ Sir, I can get no bread for supper. _Old Mer._ Hang bread and supper, let's preserve our mirth, and we shall never feel hunger, I'll warrant you; let's have a catch. Boy, follow me; come sing this catch: "Ho, ho, nobody at home, Meat, nor drink, nor money ha' we none; Fill the pot, Eedy, Never more need I." So, boys, enough, follow me; let's change our place, and we shall laugh afresh. [_Exeunt._ _Wife._ Let him go, George, a shall not have any countenance from us, not a good word from any i' th' company, if I may strike stroke in't. _Cit._ No more a sha'not, love; but, Nell, I will have Ralph do a very notable matter now, to the eternal honour and glory of all grocers. Sirrah, you there, boy, can none of you hear? _Boy._ Sir, your pleasure. _Cit._ Let Ralph come out on May-day in the morning, and speak upon a conduit with all his scarfs about him, and his feathers, and his rings, and his knacks. _Boy._ Why, sir, you do not think of our plot, what will become of that, then? _Cit._ Why, sir, I care not what become on't. I'll have him come out, or I'll fetch him out myself, I'll have something done in honour of the city; besides, he hath been long enough upon adventures. Bring him out quickly, for I come amongst you---- _Boy._ Well, sir, he shall come out; but if our play miscarry, sir, you are like to pay for't. [_Exit._ _Cit._ Bring him away, then.