Page:Works of Sir John Suckling.djvu/251

] Mar. Fine and pathetical! Come, Villanor.

Vil. What's the matter?

Mar. Come, your liquor and your stanzas!

Lines, lines!

Vil. Of what?

Mar. Why,

Of anything your mistress has given you.

Vil. Gentlemen,

She never gave me anything but a box

O' th' ear for offering to kiss her once.

Str. Of that box then.

Mar. Ay, ay, that box, of that box!

Vil. Since it must be, give me the poison then.

That box, fair mistress, which thou gavest to me, In human guess is like to cost me three, Three cups of wine and verses six: The wine will down; but verse for rhyme still sticks: By which you all may easily, gentles, know, I am a better drinker than a Po

Mar. Doran! Doran!

Gra. A hall, a hall To welcome our friend! For some liquor call; A new or fresh face Must not alter our pace, But make us still drink the quicker: ''Wine, wine! O 'tis divine!'' Come, fill it unto our brother: What's at the tongue's end, It forth does send, And will not a syllable smother. Then It unlocks the breast, And throws out the rest, And learns us to know each other. ''Wine! wine!''

Dor. Mad lads, have you been here ever since?

Str. Yes, faith: thou seest the worst of us. We debauch

In discipline. Four-and-twenty hours is