Pet. Then will I lay the serving-creature's dagger on your
pate.
I will carry no crotchets. I'll re you, I'll fa you. Do you
note
me?
1. Mus. An you re us and fa us, you note us.
2. Mus. Pray you put up your dagger, and put out your wit.
Pet. Then have at you with my wit! I will dry-beat you with an
iron
wit, and put up my iron dagger. Answer me like men.
'When griping grief the heart doth wound,
And doleful dumps the mind oppress,
Then music with her silver sound'-
Why 'silver sound'? Why 'music with her silver sound'?
What say you, Simon Catling?
1. Mus. Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound.
Pet. Pretty! What say you, Hugh Rebeck?
2. Mus. I say 'silver sound' because musicians sound for
silver.
Pet. Pretty too! What say you, James Soundpost?
3. Mus. Faith, I know not what to say.
Pet. O, I cry you mercy! you are the singer. I will say for
you. It
is 'music with her silver sound' because musicians have no
gold
for sounding.
'Then music with her silver sound
With speedy help doth lend redress.' [Exit.
1. Mus. What a pestilent knave is this same?
2. Mus. Hang him, Jack! Come, we'll in here, tarry for the
mourners, and stay dinner.
Exeunt.
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