Hip. Not now, I’ll visit you at other times.
You’re come off well, then?
Mat. Excellent well. I thank your lordship: I owe you my life, my lord; and will pay my best blood in any service of yours.
Hip. I’ll take no such dear payment. Hark you, Matheo, I know the prison is a gulf. If money run low with you, my purse is your’s: call for it.
Mat. Faith, my lord, I thank my stars, they send me down some; I cannot sink, so long these bladders hold.
Hip. I will not see your fortunes ebb, pray, try.
To starve in full barns were fond[253] modesty.
Mat. Open the door, sirrah.
Hip. Drink this, and anon, I pray thee, give thy mistress this.
[Gives to Friscobaldo, who opens the door, first money, then a purse, and exit.
Orl. O noble spirit, if no worse guests here dwell,
My blue coat sits on my old shoulders well.