Thou art a Devill.
_Phy_. Sweet Gent, beholde I am flesh and blood; heeres my flesh, feele
it.
_Cittie wife_. By my troth, methinkes hee should be alive. I could finde
in my heart to feele his flesh.
_Grac_. Trie with your Rapier, _Accutus_; if he bleede he lives.
_Phy_. If I bleede I die; sweet Gentlemen, draw no blood.
_Accu_. How shall wee knowe thou art flesh and blood then?
_Grac_. Take heede, _Accutus_, heele blast thee.
_Phy_. What instance shall I give ye? I am _Phylautus_,[310] he that
must needes confesse, he was drunk in your companies last day; sweet
Gentlemen, conceive me aright.
_Accut_. Why true, true, that we know and[311] those swilling bowels.
Death did arrest thee, many saw thee deade,
Else needles were these rites of funeralls.
And since that time, till now, no breath was knowne
Flye from you; and twentie times the houre-glasse
Hath turned his upside downe; and twenty times,
The nimble current sand hath left his upper roome.
To ly beneath, since sparke of life appeard;
In all which time my care imploide it self
To give the[e] rights of buriall: now, if you live,
Who so glad as I?
_Phy_.
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