Lev. My daughter's gone. Come, son, Mistress Cataplasma, come, we'll up into her chamber. I'd fain see how she entertains the expectation of her husband's bedfellowship.
Rou. 'Faith, howsoever she entertains it, I
Shall hardly please her; therefore let her rest.
Lev. Nay, please her hardly, and you please her best.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.—The Hall in the same.
Enter three Servants, drunk, drawing in Fresco.
1st Ser. Boy! fill some drink, boy.
Fres. Enough, good sir; not a drop more by this light.
2nd Ser. Not by this light? Why then put out the candles and we'll drink i' the dark, and t'-to't, old boy.
Fres. No, no, no, no, no.
3rd Ser. Why then take thy liquor. A health, Fresco! [Kneels.