_Bor._ I had rather lose a thousand more, than one Sad thought come neere my heart fort, vexe for trash, Although it goe from other men like drops Of their life bloud, we lose with the alacrity, Wee drinke a cup of sacke, or kisse a Mistris, No money is considerable with a gamster, They have soules more spacious than Kings, did two Gamsters divide the Empire of the world Theyd make one throw for't all, and he that lost Be no more melancholy, then to have plai'd for A mornings draught, vexe a rich soule for dirt, The quiet of whose every thought is worth A Province. _Are._ But when Dice have consumd all, Your patience will not pawne for as much more. _Bor._ Hang pawning, sell outright, and the feares over. _Are._ Say you so? I'le have another coach to morrow If there be rich above ground. _Bor._ I forgot To bid the fellow aske my Jeweller, Whether the chaine of Diamonds be made up, I will present it to my Lady _Bellamour_, Faire _Celestina_. _Are._ This gowne J have worne Sixe dayes already, it lookes dull, ile give it My waiting woman, and have one of cloth of gold enbrodered, shooes and pantables Will show well of the same. _Bor._ I have invited A covey of Ladies, and as many gentlemen To morrow to the _Italian_ Ordinary, I shall have rarities, and regalli as To pay for Madam, musicke, wanton songs, And tunes of silken petticotes to dance to. _Are._ And to morrow have I invited halfe the Court To dine here, what misfortune tis your company And ours should be devided? after dinner J entertaine e'm with a play. _Bor._ By that time Your play inclines to the Epilogue, shall we quit our _Italian_ host, and whirle in coaches, To the Douch Magazine of sawce, the Stillyard, Where deale, and backragge, and what strange wine else, They dare but give a name too in the reckoning Shall flow into our roome, and drowne Westphalias, Tongues, and Anchoavis, like some little towne Endangered by a sluce, through whole fierce ebbe We wade and wash our selves into a boate, And bid our Coachmen drive their leather tenements By land, while we saile home with a fresh tide To some new randevous. _Are._ If you have not Pointed the place, pray bring your Ladies hither, J meane to have a Ball to morrow night, And a rich banquet for e'm, where we'le dance Till morning rise, and blush to interrupt us.