_Wilf_. Yes, sir; I marry. Once the earldom comes into my line, I shall take measures to perpetuate its remaining there. I marry, sir! I do not say that I shall love. My heart has changed mistresses too often to settle down in one servitude now, sir. But fill, I pray you, friends. This, if I mistake not, is the day whence I shall date my new fortunes; and, for that reason, hither have I invited you, that, having been so long my boon companions, you shall be the first to congratulate me. [Enter Waiter] _Waiter_. You are wanted, Master Wilford. _Wilf_. By whom? _Waiter_. One Master Walter. _Wilf_. His lordship's agent! News, sirs! Show him in! [Waiter goes out] My heart's a prophet, sirs--The Earl is dead. [Enter MASTER WALTER] Well, Master Walter. How accost you me? _Wal_. As your impatience shows me you would have me. My Lord, the Earl of Rochdale! _Gay_. Give you joy! _Hold_. All happiness, my lord! _Simp_. Long life and health unto your lordship! _Gay_. Come! We'll drink to his lordship's health! 'Tis two o'clock, We'll e'en carouse till midnight! Health, my lord! _Hold_. My lord, much joy to you! _Simp_. All good to your lordship! _Wal_. Give something to the dead! _Gay_. Give what? _Wal_. Respect! He has made the living! First to him that's gone, Say "Peace!"--and then with decency to revels! _Gay_. What means the knave by revels? _Wal_. Knave? _Gay_. Ay, knave! _Wal_. Go to! Thou'rt flushed with wine! _Gay_. Thou sayest false! Though didst thou need a proof thou speakest true, I'd give thee one. Thou seest but one lord here, And I see two! _Wal_. Reflect'st thou on my shape? Thou art a villain! _Gay_. [Starting up.] Ha! _Wal_. A coward, too! Draw! [Drawing his sword.] _Gay_. Only mark him! how he struts about! How laughs his straight sword at his noble back. _Wal_. Does it? It cuffs thee for a liar then! [Strikes GAYLOVE with his sword.] _Gay_. A blow! _Wal_. Another, lest you doubt the first! _Gay_. His blood on his own head! I'm for you, sir! [Draws.] _Clif_. Hold, sir! This quarrel's mine! [Coming forward and drawing.] _Wal_. No man shall fight for me, sir! _Clif_. By your leave, Your patience, pray! My lord, for so I learn Behoves me to accost you--for your own sake Draw off your friend! _Wal_. Not till we have a bout, sir! _Clif_. My lord, your happy fortune ill you greet! Ill greet it those who love you--greeting thus The herald of it! _Wal_. Sir, what's that to you? Let go my sleeve! _Clif_. My lord, if blood be shed On the fair dawn of your prosperity, Look not to see the brightness of its day. 'Twill be o'ercast throughout! _Gay_. My lord, I'm struck! _Clif_. You gave the first blow, and the hardest one! Look, sir; if swords you needs must measure, I'm Your mate, not he! _Wal_. I'm mate for any man! _Clif_. Draw off your friend, my lord, for your own sake! _Wilf_. Come, Gaylove! let's have another room.