Car. No matter, make sure of those Seamen however; that they may be ready upon occasion.
Ant. ‘Tis high time for me that your Count were arriv’d, for this morning is destin’d the last of my Liberty.
Car. This Morning—Come, haste and dress me— [To Guz.]—Guzman, where’s our Count?
Enter Guiliom drest fine, two great Pages
and a little one following.
Guz. Coming to give you the good morrow, Sir; And shew you how well he looks the Part.
Car. Good day to your Lordship— [Bowing.
Guil. Morrow, morrow, Friend.
Ant. My Lord, your most humble Servant.
Guil. Thank you, Friend, thank you; Page, Boy—what’s a-Clock, Sirrah?
Page. About Eight, my Lord.