ACT THE FOURTH.
SCENE I.—A Tavern.
Enter Beaugard, Courtine, and Drawer.
Draw. Welcome, gentlemen, very welcome, sir; will you please to walk up one pair of stairs?
Beau. Get the great room ready presently; carry up too a good stock of bottles before-hand, with ice to cool our wine, and water to refresh our glasses.
Draw. It shall be done, sir.—Coming, coming there, coming: speak up in the Dolphin, somebody. [Exit.
Beau. Ah, Courtine, must we be always idle? must we never see our glorious days again? when shall we be rolling in the lands of milk and honey; encamped in large luxuriant vineyards, where the loaded vines cluster about our tents; drink the rich juice, just pressed from the plump grape; feeding on all the fragrant golden fruit that grow in fertile climes, and ripened by the earliest vigour of the sun?
Cour. Ah, Beaugard, those days have been, but now we must resolve to content ourselves at an humble rate. Methinks it is not unpleasant to consider how I have seen thee in a large pavilion, drowning the heat of the day in champagne wines, sparkling sweet as those charming beauties whose dear remembrance every glass recorded, with half a dozen honest fellows more; friends, Beaugard; faithful hearty friends; things as hard to meet with as preferment here; fellows that would speak truth boldly, and were proud on't; that scorned flattery, loved honesty, for 'twas their portion; and never yet learned the trade of ease and lying: but now—