_Wood_. Never, never, Lovel. Spite of my levity, with tears I confess it, she was a lady of most confirmed honor, of an unmatchable spirit, and determinate in all virtuous resolutions; not hasty to anticipate an affront, nor slow to feel, where just provocation was given. _Lovel_. What made you neglect her, then? _Wood_. Mere levity and youthfulness of blood, a malady incident to young men; physicians call it caprice. Nothing else. He that slighted her knew her value: and 'tis odds, but, for thy sake, Margaret, John will yet go to his grave a bachelor. [_A noise heard, as of one drunk and singing._ _Lovel_. Here comes one, that will quickly dissipate these humors. _Enter one drunk._ _Drunken Man_. Good-morrow to you, gentlemen. Mr. Lovel, I am your humble servant. Honest Jack Woodvil, I will get drunk with you to-morrow. _Wood_. And why to-morrow, honest Mr. Freeman? _Drunken Man_. I scent a traitor in that question. A beastly question. Is it not his Majesty's birthday? the day of all days in the year, on which King Charles the Second was graciously pleased to be born. (_Sings._) "Great pity 'tis such days as those should come but once a year." _Lovel_. Drunk in a morning! foh! how he stinks! _Drunken Man_. And why not drunk in a morning? canst tell, bully? _Wood_. Because, being the sweet and tender infancy of the day, methinks, it should ill endure such early blightings. _Drunken Man_. I grant you, 'tis in some sort the youth and tender nonage of the day. Youth is bashful, and I give it a cup to encourage it. (_Sings._) "Ale that will make Grimalkin prate."--At noon I drink for thirst, at night for fellowship, but, above all, I love to usher in the bashful morning under the auspices of a freshening stoop of liquor. (_Sings._) "Ale in a Saxon rumkin then, makes valor burgeon in tall men."--But, I crave pardon. I fear I keep that gentleman from serious thoughts. There be those that wait for me in the cellar. _Wood_. Who are they? _Drunken Man_. Gentlemen, my good friends, Cleveland, Delaval, and Truby. I know by this time they are all clamorous for me. [_Exit singing._ _Wood._ This keeping of open house acquaints a man with strange companions. _Enter, at another door, Three calling for_ HARRY FREEMAN. Harry Freeman, Harry Freeman. He is not here. Let us go look for him. Where is Freeman? Where is Harry? [_Exeunt the Three, calling for_ FREEMAN. _Wood._ Did you ever see such gentry? (_laughing._) These are they that fatten on ale and tobacco in a morning, drink burnt brandy at noon to promote digestion, and piously conclude with quart bumpers after supper to prove their loyalty. _Lovel_. Come, shall we adjourn to the Tennis Court? _Wood_. No, you shall go with me into the gallery, where I will show you the _Vandyke_ I have purchased. "The late King taking leave of his children."