Page:Works of Sir John Suckling.djvu/193

] Serj. 'Tis well, 'tis wondrous well:

Is he retir'd into this house of pleasure?

Tailor. One of these he's entered:

'Tis but a little waiting, you shall find me

At the next tavern.

Serj. Stand close; I hear one coming.

Orsabrin. This house is sure no seminary for Lucreces:

Then the matron was so over-diligent;

And, when I ask'd for meat or drink, she look'd

As if I had mistook myself, and call'd

For a wrong thing.

Well, 'tis but a night; and part of it I'll spend

In seeing of this town, so famous in

Our tales at sea.

Serj. Look, look! muffled, and as melancholy after't as a

gamester upon loss: upon him, upon him!

Orsabrin. How now, my friends; why do you use me thus?

Serj. Quietly; 'twill be your best way.

Orsabrin. Best way, for what?

Serj. Why, 'tis your best way, because there will be

no other. Topo is the word; and you must along.

Orsabrin. Is that the word? Why, then, this is my sword.

Serj. Murder, murder, murder! h'as kill'd the Prince's

officer: murder, murder, murder!

Orsabrin. I must not stay, I hear them swarm.

Constable. Where is he, where is he?

Serj. Here, here! Oh, a man-mender, a man-mender!

H' as broach'd me in so many places, all

The liquor in my body will run out.

Constable. In good sooth,

Neighbour, h'as tapp'd you at the wrong end too;

He has been busy with you here behind,

As one would say; lend a hand, some of you,

And the rest follow me.

Orsabrin. Still pursu'd! which way now? I see no passage;