_Mar._ Thus Sir, I laid my hand upon my heart, and blest me And then said over certain charms I had learn'd Against mad dogs, for love and they are all one; Last thought upon a windmil, and so slept, And was well ever after. _Rod._ A rare Physitian, What would your practise gain ye? _Mar._ The wars ended, I mean to use my Art, and have these fools Cut in the head like Cats, to save the kingdom, Another Inquisition. _Rod._ So old a Soldier Out of the wars, I never knew yet practised. _Mar._ I shall mend every day; but noble General, Believe this, but as this you nam'd discourses. _Rod._ Oh ye are a cunning Gamester. _Mar._ Mirths and toys To cosin time withal, for o' my troth Sir, I can love; I think, well too; well enough And think as well of women as they are, Pretty fantastick things, some more regardful, And some few worth a service: I am so honest, I wish 'em all in heaven, and you know how hard Sir 'Twill be to get in there with their great farthingals. _Rod._ Well _Mark-antonio_, I would not loose thy company For the best Galley I command. _Marc._ Faith General, If these discourses please ye, I shall fit ye Once every day. [_Knock within._ _Rod._ Thou canst not please me better: hark, they call Below to dinner: ye are my Cabbin guest, My bosom's, so you please Sir. _Marc._ Your poor Servant. [_Exeunt._ _Scæna Quarta._ _Enter second Host, and his Wife._ _Host._ Let 'em have meat enough Woman, half a Hen; There be old rotten Pilchards, put 'em off too, 'Tis but a little new anointing of 'em. And a strong onion, that confounds the stink. _Host[ess]._ They call for more Sir. _Host._ Knock a dozen eggs down, But then beware your wenches. _Host[ess]._ More than this too? _Host._ Worts, worts, and make 'em porridge: pop 'em up wench But they shall pay for Cullyses. _Host[ess]._ All this is nothing; They call for Kid and Partridge. _Host._ Well remembred, Where's the Faulconers half dog he left? _Host[ess]._ It stinks Sir, Past all hope that way. _Host._ Run it o'r with Garlick, And make a _Roman_ dish on't. _Host[ess]._ Pray ye be patient, And get provision in; these are fine gentlemen, And liberal gentlemen; they have _unde quare_ No mangey Muleters, nor pinching Posts, That feed upon the parings of Musk-millions And Radishes, as big and tough as Rafters: Will ye be stirring in this business? here's your brother, Mine old Host of _Ossuna_, as wise as you are, That is, as knavish; if ye put a trick, Take heed he do not find it. _Host._ I'll be wagging. _Host[ess]._ 'Tis for your own commodity: why wenches: [_Serv._] Anon forsooth. [_within._