Page:Works of Sir John Suckling.djvu/204

184 A health to the nut-brown lass, With the hazel eyes: let it pass. She that has good eyes, Has good thighs. Let it pass, let it pass.

As much to the lively grey; 'Tis as good i' th' night as day: She that has good eyes, Has good thighs. Drink away, drink away.

''I pledge, I pledge: what ho! some wine!'' Here's to thine, and to thine! The colours are divine.

But O the black, the black! Give me as much again, and let't be sack. She that has good eyes, Has good thighs, And, it may be, a better knack.

Nassurat. A reckoning, boy. There. [Pay him.]

Dost hear? Here's a friend of ours has forgotten himself

a little, as they call it: the wine has got into his head, as

the frost into his hand; he is benumbed, and has no use of

himself for the present.

Boy. Hum, sir

Nassurat. Prithee, lock the door; and when he comes to

himself, tell him he shall find us at the old place. He

knows where.

Boy. I will, sir.

Orsabrin. To die! Ay, what's that?

For yet I never thought on't seriously.

It may be 'tis—hum!—it may be 'tis not, too.

Ha!

What happy intercession wrought this change?

To whose kind prayers owe I this, my friend?

Samorat. Unto thy virtue, noble youth;