Smith. With her! with whom?
Bayes. Why, this is Lardella's funeral.
Smith. Lardella! ay, who is she?
Bayes. Why, sir, the sister of Drawcansir; a lady that was drown'd at sea, and had a wave for her winding-sheet.[37]
K. Ush. Lardella, O Lardella, from above
Behold the tragic issues of our love:
Pity us, sinking under grief and pain,
For thy being cast away upon the main.
Bayes. Look you now, you see I told you true.
Smith. Ay, sir, and I thank you for it very kindly.