Hum. O, sir, I have it,
And do confess the payment, pray be quiet.
Jasp. Go, get you to your night-cap and the diet,
To cure your beaten bones.
Luce. Alas, poor Humphrey,
Get thee some wholesome broth with sage and cumfry:
A little oil of roses, and a feather
To 'noint thy back withal.
Hum. When I came hither,
Would I had gone to Paris with John Dory.