_Flo._ I will tell ye, And tell ye seriously, why I appear thus, To hold ye no more ignorant and blinded, I have no modestie, I am truly wanton: I am that you look for Sir; now come up roundly: If my strict face and counterfeited sta[ied]ness Could have won on ye, I had caught ye that way, And you should never have come to have known who hurt ye. Prethee (sweet Count) be more familiar with me. How ever we are open in our natures, And apt to more desires than you dare meet with, Yet we affect to lay the gloss of good on't: I saw you touch[t] not at the bait of chastity, And that it grew distasteful to your palate To appear so holy, therefore I take my true shape: Is your bed ready Sir? you shall quickly find me. 3. SONG _On the bed lie throw thee, throw thee down;_ _Down being laid, shall we be afraid_ _To try the rights that belong to love?_ _No, no, there I'll woe thee with a Crown,_ _Crown our desires, kindle the fires,_ _When love requires we should wanton prove,_ _We'll kiss, we'll sport, we'll laugh, we'll play,_ _If thou com'st short, for thee I'll stay,_ _If thou unskilful art [the] ground,_ _I'll kindly teach, we'll have the Mill go round._ _Otr._ Are ye no Maid. _Flo._ Alas (my Lord) no certain: I am sorry you are so innocent to think so, Is this an age for silly Maids to thrive in? It is so long too since I lost it Sir, That I have no belief I ever was one: What should you do with Maiden-heads? you hate 'em, They are peevish, pett[ish] things, that hold no game up, No pleasure neither, they are sport for Surgeons: I'll warrant you I'll fit you beyond Maiden-head: A fair and easie way men travel right in, And with delight, discourse, and twenty pleasures, They enjoy their journey; mad men creep through hedges. _Otr._ I am metamorphos'd: why do you appear, I conjure ye, beyond belief thus wanton? _Flo._ Because I would give ye Pleasure beyond belief. 4. SONG. _Think me still in my Fathers Mill,_ _where I have oft been found-a_ _Thrown on my back, on a well-fill'd sack,_ _while the Mill has still gone round-a:_ _Prethe sirrah try thy skill,_ _and again let the Mill go round-a._ _Otr._ Then you have traded? _Flo._ Traded? how should I know else how to live Sir, And how to satisfie such Lords as you are, Our best guests, and our richest? _Otr._ How I shake now! You take no base men? _Flo._ Any that will offer, All manner of men, and all Religions Sir, We touch at in our time: all States and Ages, We exempt none. 5. SONG.