Ger. Not a word more, obey me. [Exit Ger.
Hig. Why then come dolefull death, this is flat tyranny, And by this hand—
Hub. What?
Hig. I'le goe sleep upon't. [Exit Hig.
Prig. Nay, and there be a wedding, and we wanting, Farewel our happy days: we do obey Sir. [Exeunt.
SCENA V.
Enter two young Merchants.
1 Mer. Well met Sir, you are for this lusty wedding.
2 Mer. I am so, so are you I take it.
1 Mer. Yes,
And it much glads me, that to doe him service
Who is the honour of our trade, and lustre,
We meet thus happily.