Page:Miscellaneous Plays 1.pdf/24

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Treating thy friends, as first fruits of thy kingdom, With flowing bumpers to the quiet rest Of thy good kinsman's soul,

Yes, Bernard, thou say'st well: and thy dark visage, Lank and unsuited to all mirth, would mark thee The undertaker, who amongst the guests Had come on matters of his sable trade, Grinning a strange, uncomely, jaw-bone smile O'er the fair prospect of his future gains.

Methinks, at least, in this gay, jolly band, He scarcely would discover needy men, Who better days have seen.

Tut, man! thou art too grave; thou art too grave— Which of you sung that song with merry lay Some few nights since? Come, let us have it now.