_Phil._ Follow me, Miller, and let me talk with ye farther, And keep this private all upon your Loyalties: To morrow morning, though I am now beyond him, And the less lookt for, I'll break my Fast with the good Count. No more, away, all to our sports, be silent. [_Exeunt._ _Ver._ What Grace shall I have now? _Lis._ Choose thine own Grace, And go to dinner when thou wilt, _Vertigo_, We must needs follow the King. _Ter._ You heard the sentence. _Mon._ If you stay here I'll send thee a shoulder of Venison: Go home, go home, or if thou wilt disguise, I'll help thee to a place to feed the dogs. _Ped._ Or thou shalt be special Tailor to the Kings Monkey, 'Tis a fine place, we cannot stay. _Ver._ No Money, Nor no Grace, Gentlemen? _Ter._ 'Tis too early Tailor. The King has not broke his Fast yet. _Ver._ I shall look for ye The next Term, Gentlemen. _Ped._ Thou shalt not miss us: Prethee provide some clothes, and dost thou hear _Vertigo_ Commend me to thy Wife: I want some shirts too. _Ver._ I have Chambers for ye all. _Lis._ They are too musty, When they are clear we'll come. _Ver._ I must be patient And provident, I shall never get home else. [_Exeunt._ _Scæna Secunda._ _Enter_ Otrante _and_ Florimell. _Otr._ Prethee be wiser wench, thou canst not scape me, Let me with love and gentleness injoy that That may be still preserv'd with love, and long'd for: If violence lay rough hold, I shall hate thee, And after I have enjoy'd thy Maiden-head, Thou wilt appear so stale and ugly to me I shall despise thee, cast thee off. _Flo._ I pray ye Sir, Begin it now, and open your doors to me, I do confess I am ugly; let me go, Sir: A Gipsey-girl: Why would your Lordship touch me? Fye, 'tis not noble: I am homely bred, Course, and unfit for you: why do you flatter me? There be young Ladies, many that will love ye, That will dote on ye: you [are] a handsome Gentleman, What will they say when once they know your quality? A Lord, a Miller? take your Toal dish with ye: You that can deal with Gudgins, and course flower, 'Tis pitty you should tast what manchet means: Is this fit Sir, for your repute and honor? _Otr._ I'll love thee still.