But if we ne'er again return,
Enclose our ashes in an urn,
And with them spice a wassal-cup,
And to Good Fellows drink it up.
Come, follow me, &c.
Which health, when it is gone about,
And stoutly set their foot unto't,
No doubt they shall enrolled be
I' th' Book of Fame, as well as we.
Come, follow me, spruce sprigs, come follow me,
And, if thou fall, I'll fall with thee.
Enter a rank of Tarpaulins, pressed for the same adventure, marching over the stage, and joining in the catch, an health-cup in the leader's hand.
Tar. When this grand health is gone about,
Where you as stoutly stood unto't,
Doubt not you shall recorded be
I' th' Book of Fame, as well as we.
March after me, &c.
And when this bowl shall run so round
Your legs can stand upon no ground,
Fear not, brave blades,[154] but you shall be
Sworn brothers made as well as we.
March after me, &c.
No other obsequies we crave,
Nor quaint inscriptions on our grave;
A simple shroud's a soldier's share,
Which if he want he needs not care.
March after me, &c.
Such vails are all we wish at last,
Which if we want, the care is past.
This done, to think of us were just—
Who drink not get[155] as dry as dust.
March after me, &c.
While you act what we did before,
Discharge with chalk[156] the hostess' score;
And if the hussy[157] challenge more,
Charm th' maundring gossip with your roar.
March after me, we'll frolic be,
And, if thou die, I'll die with thee.
SCENE IV.
Benhadad furiously accosts them.