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Gra. Trouble not thyself, child of discontent:

'Twill take no hurt, I warrant thee; the State

Is but a little drunk, and when it has spew'd

Up that, that made it so, it will be well

Again—there's my opinion in short.

Mar. Th' art i' th' right. The State's a pretty forehanded State,

And will do reason hereafter. Let's drink,

And talk no more on't.

All. A good motion, a good motion! let's drink.

Vil. Ay, ay, let's drink again.

Str. Come, to a mistress!

Gra. Agreed. Name, name!

Vil. Anybody. Vermilia!

Gra. Away with it.

She's pretty to walk with, And witty to talk with, And pleasant too to think on: But the best use of all Is, her health is a stale, And helps us to make us drink on.

Str. Excellent. Gentlemen, if you say the word,

We'll vaunt credit, and affect high pleasure; shall we?

Vil. Ay, ay, let's do that.

Str. What think ye of the sacrifice now?

Mar. Come, we'll ha't; for trickling tears are vain.

Vil. The sacrifice? what's that?

Str. Child of ignorance, 'tis a camp-health,

An à-la-mode one. Grainevert, begin it.

Gra. Come, give it me.

Let me see which of them this rose will serve.

Hum, hum, hum!

Bright star o' th' lower orb, twinkling inviter, Which draw'st as well as eyes, but sett'st men righter: For who at thee begins, comes to the place Sooner than he that sets out at the face: Eyes are seducing lights, that the good women know, And hang out these a nearer way to show.