Crac. Some mad wag, I warrant him: is this a new song?
Mus. Tis the first edition, sir: none else but we had ever coppie of it.
Suc. But you wilbe intreated to let a gent have it?
Mus. By no meanes; the author has sworne to the contrary, least it should grow so wonderous old and turne a Ballad.
Crac. Well said, Captain; the tother health, Captain: heres good wine, good Tobackoe, good everything: had we but a good wench or two twere excellent.
Suc. Great Alexander, does not dreame of this, I warrant yee.
Grimes. Oh, hees fast enough; heele be ready to cast up his accounts the easier when my lady calls him.
Crac. Come, come; who payes the Musicke? Captain, you have my purse.
Suc. Truths a truth from Infidell or Pagan: I am in trust, and that's beleife, and so it shalbe saved. Pay the Musick? umh, where are they? let me see, how many's of you, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6: good, can any of you daunce?
Mus. Daunce? Yes, sir, we can shake our legs or soe.