_Pet. Tom Puppie._ Leave this way to abuse me: I have found ye, But for your mothers sake I will forgive ye. Your subtil understanding may discover (As you think) some trim toy to make you merry; Some straw to tickle ye; but do not trust to't; Y' are a young man, and may do well: be sober: Carry your self discreetly. _Enter_ Decius, Demetrius, Curius. _Jun._ Yes forsooth. _Dem._ How does the brave _Petillius_? _Jun._ Monstrous merry: We two were talking what a kind of thing I was when I was in love; what a strange monster For little Boys and Girls to wonder at; How like a fool I lookt. _Dec._ So they do all, Like great dull slavering fools. _Jun. Petillius_ saw too. _Pet._ No more of this, 'tis scurvie, peace. _Jun._ How nastily, Indeed, how beastly all I did became me! How I forgot to blow my nose! there he stands, An honest and a wise man; if himself (I dare avouch it boldly, for I know it) Should find himself in love-- _Petill._ I am angry. _Jun._ Surely his wise self would hang his beastly self, His understanding-self so mawl his ass-self-- _Dec._ He's bound to do it; for he knows the follies, The poverties, and baseness that belongs to't, H'as read upon the reformations long. _Petill._ He has so. _Jun._ 'Tis true, and he must do't: Nor is it fit indeed any such coward-- _Petill._ You'll leave prating. _Jun._ Should dare come near the Regiments, especially Those curious puppies (for believe there are such) That only love behaviours: those are dog-whelps, Dwindle away, because a Woman dies well; Commit with passions only: fornicate With the free spirit merely: you, _Petillius_, For you have long observ'd the World. _Petill._ Dost thou hear? I'll beat thee damnably within these three hours: Go pray; may be I'll kill thee. Farewel Jack-daws. [_Exit._ _Dec._ What a strange thing he's grown! _Jun._ I am glad he is so; And stranger he shall be before I leave him. _Cur._ Is't possible her mere death-- _Jun._ I observ'd him, And found him taken, infinitely taken With her bravery, I have follow'd him, And seen him kiss his sword since, court his scabbard, Call dying, dainty deer; her brave mind, Mistriss; Casting a thousand ways, to give those forms, That he might lie with 'em, and get old Armors: He had got me o' th' hip once: it shall go hard, friends, But he shall find his own coin. _Enter_ Macer. _Dec._ How now _Macer_? Is Judas yet come in? [_Enter_ Judas. _Mac._ Yes, and has lost Most of his men too. Here he is. _Car._ What news? _Jud._ I have lodg'd him; rouze him he that dares. _Dem._ Where, _Judas_?