Page:Works of Sir John Suckling.djvu/203

⁠Pellegrin. Or as if he had overstrain'd himself
At a deep note in a ballad.

⁠Nassurat. What think you of an oyster at a low ebb?
Some liquor for him!
You will not be a pimp for life, you rogue,45
Nor hold a door to save a gentleman.
You are—pox on him, what he is, Pellegrin?
If you love me, let's stifle him, and say
'Twas a sudden judgment upon him for swearing.
The posture will confirm it.50

⁠Pellegrin. We're in excellent humour;
Let's have another bottle, and give out
That Ann, my wife, is dead.
Shall I, gentlemen?

⁠Nassurat. Rare rogue in buckram, let me bite thee.55
Before me thou shalt go out wit, and upon
As good terms as some of those in the ballad, too.

⁠Pellegrin. Shall I so? Why then, foutre for the Guise!
Saints shall accrue; and ours shall be
The black-ey'd beauties of the time.60
I'll tickle you for old ends of plays.[They sing

Around, around, around.
Around, around, around.

Somebody's at the door![Knocking at the door
Pr'ythee, pr'ythee: sirrah, sirrah, try thy skill.65

⁠Nassurat. Who's there?

Enter a Messenger

⁠Messenger. One Sturgelot a gaoler here?

⁠Nassurat. Such a one there was, my friend, but he's gone
Above an hour ago.
Now did this rogue whisper in his heart, that's a lie;70
And for that very reason I'll cut his throat.

⁠Pellegrin. No, pr'ythee now,—for thinking?
Thou shalt not take the pains; the law shall do't.

⁠Nassurat. How, how?

⁠Pellegrin. Marry, we'll write it over, when we're gone,75
He join'd in the plot, and put himself into
This posture, merely to disguise it to
The world.

⁠Nassurat. Excellent! Here's to thee for that conceit!
We should have made rare statesmen, we are so witty in80
our mischief! Another song, and so let's go: it will be
time.[They sing