Hen. Had, Buzzano? had a father & a Brother there? have I not so, still, Buzzano?
Buz. No, sir, your Elder Brother is—
Hen. What? speake, Buzzano: I imagine, dead.
Buz. Nay, you shall give me something by your leave; you shall pay the poast:—good newes for nothing?
Hen. Here, here, Buzzano; speake quickly, crowne me with the felicity of a younger brother: is he dead, man?
Buz. No, he's come home very well, sir; doe you thinke I goe on dead men's errands.
Hen. Pox on the Buzzard! how he startled my bloud!
Buz. But he is very weary & very pensive, sir; talkes not at all, but calls for his bed;—pray God your Father be not dead!—and desires when you come in to have you his Bedfellow, for he hath private speech with ye.
Hen, Well, sir, you that are so apt to take money for newes, beware how you reflect one word, sillable or thought concerning Eleonora: you knowe what I meane?
Bus. Yes, & meane what you know, sir.