Oliv. Yonder Gentleman too has receiv’d some hurt by the Fire, and must go home, Sir; but you must restore him the Box, Mr. Constable.
Sir Morg. Ay, ay, lookye, de see, return the Gentleman all; they’re Gentlemen, and our intimate Friends, d’ye see. Exeunt Prince, and Olivia.
Enter a Servant.
Const. Stand: Who goes there?
Sir Morg. Philip—Lookye, d’ye see, he shall along with us to the Tavern.
Serv. Sir Morgan, I came to seek you: your Lady Mother sent me back on purpose; she has spoil’d her Beauty with crying for you.
Sir Morg. And wash’d off all her Paint?—Or so, de see! Gad sa’ me, Philip, this is ill Luck. Come, let us go drink down Sorrow.
Serv. Being sent of such an Errand, as your Safety, Sir, I dare not stay and drink now, before I’ve satisfy’d your Mother.
Sir Mer. Not drink! I charge you in the King’s Name, Mr. Constable, bring him along. The Constable and Watch seize him.
Sings.