Nev. Is he good at the exercise of drinking, sir?
Pen. Who? my lord? the only drunkard i' th' world—drinker, I would say.
Abra. God-a-mercy for that.
Nev. I would he heard him.
Abra. I know a better whoremaster than he.
Nev. O fie! no: none so good as my lord.
Pen. Hardly, by'r Lady, hardly.
C. Fred. How now! who's this?
Enter Scudmore, like a servingman, with a letter.
Sir J. Wor. What would you?