_Sir Dav._ Dear neighbour, dearest neighbour, friend, Sir Jolly, as you love charity, pity my wretched case, and give me counsel; I'll give my wife and all my estate to have him live again; or shall I bury him in the arbour, at the upper end of the garden? _Sir Jol._ Alas-a-day, neighbour, never think on't, never think on't; the dogs will find him there, as they scrape holes to bury bones in; there is but one way that I know of. _Sir Dav._ What is it, dear neighbour, what is it? You see I am upon my knees to you; take all I have and ease me of my fears. _Sir Jol._ Truly the best thing that I can think of is putting of him to bed, putting him into a warm bed, and try to fetch him to life again; a warm bed is the best thing in the world. My lady may do much too, she's a good woman, and, as I've been told, understands a green wound well. _Sir Dav._ My dear, my dear, my dear! _L. Dunce._ Bear me away! oh, send me hence far off, where my unhappy name may be a stranger, and this sad accident no more remembered to my dishonour! _Sir Dav._ Ah, but my love! my joy! are there no bowels in thee? _L. Dunce._ What would you have me do? _Sir Dav._ Pr'ythee do so much as try thy skill; there may be one dram of life left in him yet. Take him up to thy chamber, put him into thy own bed, and try what thou canst do with him; pr'ythee do: if thou canst but find motion in him, all may be well yet. I'll go up to my closet in the garret, and say my prayers in the mean while. _L. Dunce._ Will ye then leave this ruin on my hands? _Sir Dav._ Pray, pray, my dear; I beseech you, neighbour, help to persuade her if it be possible. _Sir Jol._ Faith, madam, do, try what you can do. I have a great fancy you may do him good; who can tell but you may have the gift of stroking? Pray, madam, be persuaded. _L. Dunce._ I'll do whate'er's your pleasure. _Sir Dav._ That's my best dear: I'll go to my closet and pray for thee heartily. Alas, alas, that ever this should happen! [_Exit._ _Beau._ So, is he gone, madam, my angel? _Sir Jol._ What, no thanks, no reward for old Jolly now? Come hither, hussy, you little canary-bird, you little hop-o'-my-thumb, come hither: make me a curtsey, and give me a kiss now, ha! give me a kiss, I say; odd, I will have a kiss, so I will, I will have a kiss if I set on't. Shoogh, shoogh, shoogh, get you into a corner when I bid you, shoogh, shoogh, shoogh--what, there already? [_She goes to_ BEAUGARD.] Well, I ha' done, I ha' done; this 'tis to be an old fellow now. _Beau._ And will you save the life of him you've wounded? _L. Dunce._ Dare you trust yourself to my skill for a cure? [Sir DAVY _appears at a window above_.