The Man. Is he drunk too?
The Other. If I were a judge I’d say “Very drunk”! He’s spilled his wine on his clothes. What I say is “Waste not, want not!”
Landlord. Come now, come away! You hear what the gentleman says.
The Man [throwing him off]. Hey, Death! Ho, Death! Let me go, Death! Shall I wake him?
Shakespeare [turning in the doorway]. Ay, wake him, wake him, old trump of judgment! Wake him if you can,
And if you cannot let him sleep his sleep And envy him that he can sleep so sound!
The Man. Ay sir, he shall sleep till he wakes. But we, sir, we’ll sing you off the premises, for the love of Bess.
Hey, Bess? Ho, Bess!
Another [hammering the table]. Death, not Bess! Death! Death! Death! Come along chorus!
Two or Three [as they lurch out of the room]. Ho, boy! Hey, boy! Come this way, boy! Who’ll have a drink with me?