And, upon the first
opportunity, start you up, and surprise him with a jest.
_Burr_. Well, I think this impossible to be done: but, however,
I'll attempt. [_Lies down_, FAILER _covers him_.
_Fail_. Husht! he's coming up.
_Enter BIBBER_.
_Bib_. 'Morrow, Mr Failer: What, I warrant you think I come a
dunning now?
_Fail_. No, I vow to gad, Will; I have a better opinion of thy
wit, than to think thou would'st come to so little purpose.
_Bib_. Pretty well that: No, no, my business is to drink my
morning's-draught in sack with you.
_Fail_. Will not ale serve thy turn, Will?
_Bib_. I had too much of that last night; I was a little
disguised, as they say.
_Fail_. Why disguised? Hadst thou put on a clean band, or washed
thy face lately? Those are thy disguises, Bibber.
_Bib_. Well, in short, I was drunk; damnably drunk with ale;
great hogan-mogan bloody ale: I was porterly drunk, and that I hate of
all things in nature.
_Burr, rising_.] And of all things in nature I love it best.
_Bib_. Art thou there, i'faith? and why, old boy?
_Burr_. Because, when I am porterly drunk, I can carry myself.
_Bib_. Ha, ha, boy.
_Fail_. This porter brings sad news to you, Will; you must
trust him for a suit of clothes, as bad as 'tis: Come, he's an honest
fellow, and loves the king.
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