Sir LUKE.
True, my dear Serjeant—this is the searcher of secrets—the only key to the heart.
SERJEANT.
Right boy, in veritas vino.
Sir LUKE.
No deceit in a bumper. [Sings.] Drink and be merry.
SERJEANT.
Merry! dammee, what a sweet fellow you are; what would I give, to be half so jolly and gay.
Sir LUKE.
[Appearing very drunk.] Would you? and yet do you know, Serjeant, that at this very juncture of time, there is a thing has popp'd into my head, that distresses me very much.