Hostess. Still mine old Brother.
Host. Die. Set thy Seller open,
For I must enter, and advance my Colours,
I have brought th[ee] Dons indeed wench, Dons with Duckets
And those Dons must have dainty Wine, pure Bacchus
That bleeds the life blood: what is your cure ended?
Bayl. We shall have Meat man.
Host. Die. Then we will have Wine man,
And Wine upon Wine, cut and drawn with Wine.
Hostess. Ye shall have all, and more than all.
Bay. All, well then.
Host. Die. Away, about your business, you with her
For old acquaintance sake, to stay your stomach. Exit Hostess and Bayliff.
And Boy, be you my guide, ad inferos,
For I will make a full descent in equipage.
Boy. I'll shew you rare Wine.
Host. Die. Stinging geer.
Boy. Divine Sir.