With this nights reuels, and expire the tearme
Of a despised life clos'd in my brest:
By some vile forfeit of vntimely death.
But he that hath the stirrage of my course,
Direct my sute: on lustie Gentlemen

Ben. Strike Drum.

They march about the Stage, and Seruingmen come forth with
their napkins.

Enter Seruant.

Ser. Where's Potpan, that he helpes not to take away?
He shift a Trencher? he scrape a Trencher?
1. When good manners, shall lie in one or two mens
hands, and they vnwasht too, 'tis a foule thing

Ser. Away with the Ioynstooles, remoue the Courtcubbord,
looke to the Plate: good thou, saue mee a piece
of Marchpane, and as thou louest me, let the Porter let in
Susan Grindstone, and Nell, Anthonie and Potpan

2. I Boy readie

Ser. You are lookt for, and cal'd for, askt for, & sought
for, in the great Chamber

1. We cannot be here and there too, chearly Boyes,
Be brisk awhile, and the longer liuer take all.