_The._ How do you, Sir? can you lend a man an Angel? I hear you let out money. _Arc._ Very well, Sir, You are pleasantly dispos'd: I am glad to see it. Can you lend me your patience, and be rul'd by me? _The._ Is't come to patience now? _Arc._ Is't not a Vertue? _The._ I know not: I ne'r found it so. _Arc._ That's because Thy anger ever knows, and not thy judgment. _The._ I know you have been rifl'd. _Arc._ Nothing less, Boy; Lord, what opinions these vain People publish! Rifl'd of what? _The._ Study your Vertue, Patience, It may get Mustard to your Meat. Why in such haste, Sir, Sent ye for me? _Arc._ For this end only, _Theodore_, To wait upon your Sisters to the Court; I am commanded they live there. _The._ To th' Court, Sir? _Arc._ To th' Court I say. _The._ And must I wait upon 'em? _Arc._ Yes, 'tis most fit you should, you are their Brother. _The._ Is this the business? I had thought your mind, Sir, Had been set forward on some noble action, Something had truly stir'd ye. To th' Court with these? Why, they are your Daughters, Sir. _Arc._ All this I know, Sir. _The._ The good old Woman on a Bed he threw: To th' Court? _Arc._ Thou art mad. _The._ Nor drunk as you are: Drunk with your duty, Sir: do you call it duty? A pox of duty, what can these do there? What should they do? Can ye look Babies, Sisters, In the young Gallants eyes, and twirl their Band-strings? Can ye ride out to air your selves? Pray Sir, Be serious with me, do you speak this truly? _Arc._ Why, didst thou never hear of Women Yet at Court, Boy? _The._ Yes, and good Women too, very good Women, Excellent honest Women: but are you sure, Sir, That these will prove so? _Hon._ There's the danger, Brother. _The._ God-a-mercy Wench, thou hast a grudging of it. _Arc._ Now be you serious, Sir, and observe what I say, Do it, and do it handsomly; go with 'em. _The._ With all my heart, Sir; I am in no fault now; If they be thought Whores for being in my Company; Pray write upon their Backs, they are my Sisters, And where I shall deliver 'em. _Arc._ Ye are wondrous jocund, But prithee tell me, art thou so lewd a Fellow? I never knew thee fail a truth. _The._ I am a Souldier, And spell you what that means. _Arc._ A Souldier? What dost thou make of me? _The._ Your Palate's down, Sir. _Arc._ I thank ye, Sir. _The._ Come, shall we to this matter? You will to Court? _Hon._ If you will please to honour us.