Mor. Hast ne'er an old suppository?
Sur. Oh would I had Sir.
Lam. Or, but the paper where such a Cordial
Potion, or Pills hath been entomb'd.
Fran. Or the best bladder where a cooling-glister.
Mor. Hast thou no searcloths left?
Nor any old pultesses?
Fran. We care not to what it hath been ministred.
Sur. Sure I have none of these dainties Gentlemen.
Fran. Where's the great Wen
Thou cut'st from Hugh the saylers shoulder?
That would serve now for a most Princely banquet.
Sur. I, if we had it Gentlemen.
I flung it over-board, slave that I was.
Lam. A most unprovident villain.