Mus.
Faith we may put up our pipes and be gone.

Nurse.
Honest good fellows: ah, put up, put up,
For well you know this is a pitiful case.

Mus.
Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended. Enter Peter.

Pet.

Musicians, oh musicians, heart's ease, heart's ease: oh, an you will have me live, play heart's ease.

Mus.

Why heart's ease?

Pet.

O musicians, because my heart it self plays, my heart is full of woe. O play me some merry dump, to comfort me!

Mus.

Not a dump we, 'tis no time to play now.

Pet.

You will not then?

Mus.

No.

Pet.

I will then give it you soundly.

Mus.

What will you give us?

Pet.

No mony on my faith, I'll re you, I'll fa you, do you note me?

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, answer me like men:

When griping griefs the heart doth wound,
Then musick with her silver sound—
Why silver sound? why musick with her silver sound?
What say you, Simon Catling?

Mus.
Marry, Sir, because silver hath a sweet sound.

Pet.
^{g note}Pretty! what say you, Hugh Rebeck?

2 Mus.
I say silver sound, because musicians sound for silver.

Pet.
^{h note}Pretty too! what say you Samuel Sound-board?

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 musick with her silver sound, because such fellows as you have no gold for sounding.

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.

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