Omnes. Saint George, Saint George! [Exeunt.
Wife. 'Twas well done, Ralph; I'll send thee a cold capon a field, and a bottle of March beer; and, it may be, come myself to see thee.
Cit. Nell, the boy hath deceived me much; I did not think it had been in him. He has perform'd such a matter, wench, that, if I live, next year I'll have him Captain of the Gallifoist, or I'll want my will.
Enter Old Merry-thought.
Old Mer. Yet, I thank God, I break not a wrinkle more than I had; not a stoop, boys. Care, live with cats, I defy thee! My heart is as sound as an oak; and tho' I want drink to wet my whistle, I can sing,
"Come no more there, boys; come no more there:
For we shall never, whilst we live, come any more there."
Enter a Boy with a coffin.
Boy. God save you, sir.
Old Mer. It's a brave boy. Canst thou sing?