Pis. Six o'clock, say you? Trust me, forward days.
Hark you, Mouche, hie you to church,
Bid Master Bewford be in readiness.
Where go you? that way?
Anth. For my cloak, sir,
Pis. O, 'tis well. And, Master Brown,
Trust me, your early stirring makes me muse,
Is it to me your business?
Brown. Even to yourself.
I come, I think, to bring you welcome news.
Pis. And welcome news more welcome makes the bringer.
Speak, speak, good Master Brown, I long to hear them.
Brown. Then this it is. Young Harvey, late last night,
Full weak and sickly came unto his lodging.
From whence this sudden malady proceeds
'Tis all uncertain; the doctors and his friends
Affirm his health is unrecoverable.
Young Heigham and Ned Walgrave lately left him.
And I came hither to inform you of it.
Pis. Young Master Harvey sick? Now, afore God,
The news bites near the bone; for, should he die.
His living mortgaged would be redeem'd,
For not these three months doth the bond bear date!
Die now? Marry, God in heaven defend it!
O my sweet lands, lose thee I nay, lose my life!
And which is worst, I dare not ask mine own,
For I take two-and-twenty in the hundred,
When the law gives but ten. But should he live,
He careless would have left the debt unpaid,
Then had the lands been mine, Pisaro's own:
Mine, mine own land, mine own possession!
Brown. Nay, hear me out.
Pis. You're out too much already,
Unless you give him life, and me his land.
Brown. Whether 'tis love to you, or to your daughter,
I know not certain; but the gentleman
Hath made a deed of gift of all his lands
Unto your beauteous daughter, fair Marina.