Yo. Lo. Dead, and by this time soust for Ember Week.
Morecraft. Dead?
Young Lo. Drown'd, drown'd at sea man, by the next fresh Conger that comes we shall hear more.
Mor. Now by my faith of my body it moves me much.
Yo. Lo. What, wilt thou be an Ass, and weep for the dead? why I thought nothing but a general inundation would have mov'd thee, prethe be quiet, he hath left his land behind him.
Morecraft. O has he so?
Young Lo. Yes faith, I thank him for't, I have all boy, hast any ready mony?
Morecraft. Will you sell Sir?
Young Lo. No not out right good Gripe; marry, a morgage or such a slight securitie.
More. I have no mony, Sir, for Morgage; if you will sell, and all or none, I'le work a new Mine for you.