Alber. I do protest, as I am Man and Soldier,
If I had buried him in a wave at Sea,
(Lost in some honorable action)
I would not, to the saltness of his grave,
Have added the least tear; but these quarrels
Enter Mariana, and Clarissa.
Bred out of game and wine, I had as live
He should have died of a Surfet.
Maria. Oh what comfort! How is it with our Son Sir?
Alber. His Work-masters
Bear me in hand here, as my Lawyer does,
When I have a crackt Title, or bad Sute in Law,
All shall go well.
Maria. I pray you Gentlemen, what think you of his wound.
Physi. 'Tis but a scratch, nothing to danger.
Claris. But he receiv'd it from a friend,
And the unkindness ta'en at that, may kill him.
Mari. Let me see him:
Physi. By no means, he slumbers.