_Lel._ Not of his tribe I hope; bring me no more I would wish you such as he is; if thou seest They look like men of worth, and state, and carry Ballast of both sides like tall Gentlemen Admit 'em, but no snakes to poyson us With poverty; wench you must learn a wise rule, Look not upon the youths of men, and making, How they descend in bloud, nor let their tongues, Though they strike suddainly, and sweet as musick Corrupt thy fancy: see, and say them fair too, But ever keep thy self without their distance, Unless the love thou swallow be a pill Gilded to hide the bitterness it brings, Then fall on without fear, wench, yet so wisely That one encounter cloy him not; nor promise His love hath made thee more his, than his monies; Learn this and thrive, Then let thine honour ever (For that's the last rule) be so stood upon, That men may fairly see 'Tis want of means, not vertue makes thee fall; And if you weep 'twill be a great deal better, And draw on more compassion, which includes A greater tenderness of love and bounty: This is enough at once, digest it well: Go let him in wench, if he promise profit, Not else. _Enter_ Julio. O you are welcome my fair Servant, Upon my troth I have been longing for ye. _Wom._ This, by her rule, should be a liberal man, I see the best on's may learn every day. _Lel._ There's none come with you? _Jul._ No. _Lel._ You do the wiser, For some that have been here (I name no man) Out of their malice, more than truth, have done me Some few ill offices. _Jul._ How, Sweet? _Lel._ Nay, nothing, Only have talkt a little wildly of me; As their unruly Youth directed 'em; Which though they bite me not, I would have wisht Had light upon some other that deserv'd 'em. _Jul._ Though she deserve this of the loosest tongue (Which makes my sin the more) I must not see it; Such is my misery. I would I knew him. _Lel._ No, no, let him go, He is not worth your anger; I must chide you For being such a stranger to your Mistriss, Why would you be so, Servant? _Jul._ I should chide, If chiding would work any thing upon you, For being such a stranger to your Servant, I mean to his desires; when, my dear Mistress, Shall I be made a happy man? _Lel._ Fye, Servant, What do you mean? unhand me, or, by Heav'n, I shall be very angry, this is rudeness. _Jul._ 'Twas but a kiss or two, that thus offends you. _Lel._ 'Twas more I think, than you have warrant for. _Jul._ I am sorry I deserv'd no more.