_Lel._ You are old, Is that your meaning? why, you are to me The greater novelty, all our fresh youth Are daily offer'd me, though you perform As you think little, yet you satisfie My appetite: from your experience I may learn something in the way of lust I may be better for. But I can teach These young ones; But this day I did refuse A paire of 'em, _Julio_, and _Angelo_, And told them they were as they were Raw fools and whelps. [Ang. _makes discontented signs_. [Sidenote: _Maid laies her finger cross_ _her mouth to him._] _Maid._ Pray God he speak not. _Lel._ Why speak you not sweet sir? _Fath._ Umh.-- [_Stops his ears, shews he is troubled with the Musick._ _Lel._ Peace there, that musique, now Sir speak To me. _Fath._ Umh.-- [_Points at the Maid._ _Lel._ Why? would you have her gone? you need not keep Your freedom in for her; she knows my life That she might write it; Think she is a stone. She is a kind of bawdy Confessor, And will not utter secrets. _Fath._ Umh.-- [_Points at her again._ _Lel._ Be gone then, since he needs will have it so, 'Tis all one. [_Exit Maid.--Fath. locks the door._ Is all now as you would? come meet me then, And bring a thousand kisses on thy lips, And I will rob thee of 'em, and yet leave Thy lips as wealthy as they were before. _Fath._ Yes, all is as I would but thou. _Lel._ By Heaven 'tis my Father.-- [_Starts._ _Fath._ And I do beseech thee Leave these unheard of lusts which worse become thee, Than mocking of thy Father; let thine eyes Reflect upon thy soul, and there behold How loathed black it is; and whereas now Thy face is heavenly fair, but thy mind foul, Go but into thy Closet, and there cry Till thou hast spoil'd that face, and thou shalt find How excellent a change thou wilt have made For inward beauty. _Lel._ Though I know him now To be my Father, never let me live If my lust do abate, I'le take upon me To have known him all this while. _Fath._ Look, dost thou know me? _Lel._ I knew ye Sir before. _Fath._ What didst thou do? _Lel._ Knew you, and so unmov'dly have you born All the sad crosses that I laid upon you, With such a noble temper, which indeed I purposely cast on you, to discern Your carriage in calamity, and you Have undergone 'em with that brave contempt, That I have turn'd the reverence of a child Into the hot affection of a Lover. Nor can there on the earth be found but yours A spirit fit to meet with mine. _Fath._ A woman? thou art not sure. _Lel._ Look and believe.