LOVEL
As all good Christians’ should, I think.

WOODVIL
I am sure, I could have loved her still within the limits of warrantable
love.

LOVEL
A kind of brotherly affection, I take it.

WOODVIL
We should have made excellent man and wife in time.

LOVEL
A good old couple, when the snows fell, to crowd about a sea-coal fire,
and talk over old matters.

WOODVIL While each should feel, what neither cared to acknowledge, that stories oft repeated may, at last, come to lose some of their grace by the repetition.

LOVEL Which both of you may yet live long enough to discover.  For, take my word for it, Margaret is a bird that will come back to you without a lure.

WOODVIL Never, never, Lovel.  Spite of my levity, with tears I confess it, she was a lady of most confirmed honour, of an unmatchable spirit, and determinate in all virtuous resolutions; not hasty to anticipate an affront, nor slow to feel, where just provocation was given.

LOVEL
What made you neglect her, then?

WOODVIL Mere levity and youthfulness of blood, a malady incident to young men, physicians call it caprice.  Nothing else.  He, that slighted her, knew her value:  and ’tis odds, but, for thy sake, Margaret, John will yet go to his grave a bachelor. (A noise heard, as of one drunk and singing.)

LOVEL
Here comes one, that will quickly dissipate these humours.

(Enter one drunk.)

DRUNKEN MAN
Good-morrow to you, gentlemen.  Mr. Lovel, I am your humble servant. 
Honest Jack Woodvil, I will get drunk with you to-morrow.

WOODVIL
And why to-morrow, honest Mr. Freeman?

DRUNKEN MAN
I scent a traitor in that question.  A beastly question.  Is it not his
Majesty’s birth-day? the day, of all days in the year, on which King
Charles the second was graciously pleased to be born. (Sings) “Great
pity ’tis such days as those should come but once a year.”

LOVEL
Drunk in a morning! foh! how he stinks!

DRUNKEN MAN
And why not drunk in a morning? can’st tell, bully?

WOODVIL
Because, being the sweet and tender infancy of the day, methinks, it
should ill endure such early blightings.

DRUNKEN MAN I grant you, ’tis in some sort the youth and tender nonage of the day.  Youth is bashful, and I give it a cup to encourage it. (Sings) “Ale that will make Grimalkin prate.”—­At noon I drink for thirst, at night for fellowship, but, above all, I love to usher in the bashful morning under the auspices of a freshening stoop of liquor. (Sings) “Ale in a Saxon rumkin then makes valour burgeon in tall men.”—­But, I crave pardon.  I fear I keep that gentleman from serious thoughts.  There be those that wait for me in the cellar.

WOODVIL
Who are they?

DRUNKEN MAN
Gentlemen, my good friends, Cleveland, Delaval, and Truby.  I know by
this time they are all clamorous for me. (Exit, singing.)