Keeper. My lord, a messenger came newly in,
And brought this from 'em.
Jun. Nothing but paper-comforts?
I look'd for my delivery before this,
Had they been worth their oaths.—Prythee, be from us.
[Exit Keeper.
Now what say you, forsooth? speak out, I pray.
[Reads the letter.] Brother, be of good cheer;
'Slud, it begins like a whore with good cheer.
Thou shalt not be long a prisoner.
Not five-and-thirty years, like a bankrupt—I think so.
We have thought upon a device to get thee out by a trick.
By a trick! pox o' your trick, an' it be so long a playing.
And so rest comforted, be merry, and expect it suddenly!
Be merry! hang merry, draw and quarter merry;
I'll be mad. Is't not strange that a man should lie-in a whole month for a woman? Well, we shall see how sudden our brothers will be in their promise. I must expect still a trick: I shall not be long a prisoner. How now, what news?
Enter Keeper.
Keeper. Bad news, my lord; I am discharged of you.
Jun. Slave! call'st thou that bad news? I thank you, brothers.