Lieu. Good Master Doctors, let me be beholding to you, I feel I cannot last.
2 Phy. For what Lieutenant?
Lieu. But ev'n for half a dozen Cans of good Wine, That I may drink my will out: I faint hideously. (men,
Dem. Fetch him some Wine; and since he must go Gentle—Why let him take his journey merrily.
Enter Servant with Wine.
Lieu. That's ev'n the nearest way.
Leo. I could laugh dead now.
Dem. Here, off with that.
Lieu. These two I give your Grace, A poor remembrance of a dying man, Sir, And I beseech you wear 'em out.
Dem._ I will Souldier, These are fine Legacies.