_Bob._ Oh good _St. Jaques_ help me: was there ever such an Hermaphrodite heard of? would any wench living, that should hear and see what I do, be wrought to believe, that the best of a man lies under this Petticoat, and that a Codpiece were far fitter here, than a Pinn'd Placket? _Luc._ You had best talk filthily: do; I have a tongue To tell my Mother, as well as ears to hear Your ribaldry. _Bob._ Nay you have ten womens tongues that way I am sure: why my young Master or Mistriss, Madam, Don, or what you will, what the devil have you to do with Pullen, or Partridge? or to sit pricking on a clout all day? you have a better needle, I know, and might make better work, if you had grace to use it. _Luc._ Why, how dare you speak this before me, sirrah? _Bob._ Nay rather, why dare not you do what I speak?--though my Lady your mother, for fear of _Vitelli_ and his faction, hath brought you up like her Daughter, and has kept you these 20 years, which is ever since you were born, a close prisoner within doors, yet since you are a man, and are as well provided as other men are, methinks you should have the same motions of the flesh, as other Cavaliers of us are inclin'd unto. _Luc._ Indeed you have cause to love those wanton motions, They having hope you to an excellent whipping, For doing something, I but put you in mind of it, With the _Indian_ Maid, the Governor sent my mother From _Mexico_. _Bob._ Why, I but taught her a _Spanish_ trick in charity, and holpe the King to a subject that may live to take _Grave_ _Maurice_ prisoner, and that was more good to the State, than a thousand such as you are ever like to doe: and I will tell you, (in a fatherly care of the Infant I speak it) if he live (as bless the babe, in passion I remember him) to your years, shall he spend his time in pinning, painting, purling, and perfuming as you do? no, he shall to the wars, use his _Spanish_ Pike, though with the danger of the lash, as his father has done, and when he is provoked, as I am now, draw his _Toledo_ desperately, as-- _Luc._ You will not kill me? oh. _Bob._ I knew this would silence him: how he hides his eies! If he were a wench now, as he seems, what an advantage Had I, drawing two _Toledo_'s, when one can do this! But oh me, my Lady: I must put up: young Master I did but jest: Oh custom, what hast thou made of him? _Enter_ Eugenia _and Servants_. _Eug._ For bringing this, be still my friend; no more A servant to me. _Bo[b]._ What's the matter?