Mel. God make you all his servants!
Qua. He is holpen well had need of you; for be it spoken without profanism, he hath more in this train. I fear me you ha’ more servants than he: I am sure the devil is an angel of darkness.
Lam. Ay, but those are angels of light.
Qua. Light angels; prithee leave them; withdraw a little, and hear a sonnet; prithee hear a sonnet.
Lam. Made of Albano’s widow that was, and Monsieur Laverdure’s wife that must be. 151
Qua. Come, leave his lips, and command some liquor; if you have no bottle-ale, command some claret wine and borage,[521] for that’s my predominate humour; sleek-bellied Bacchus, let’s fill thy guts.
Lam. Nay, hear it, and relish it judiciously.
Qua. I do relish it most judicially.
[Quadratus drinks.
Lam. Adored excellence! delicious, sweet!