_Young Lo_. I, and 'tis well said my old peer of _France_: welcome Gentlemen, welcome Gentlemen; mine own dear Lads y'are richly welcome. Know this old _Harry_ Groat. _Cap_. Sir I will take your love. _Sav_. Sir, you will take my Purse. _Cap_. And study to continue it. _Sav_. I do believe you. _Trav_. Your honorable friend and Masters Brother, hath given you to us for a worthy fellow, and so we hugg you Sir. _Sav_. Has given himself into the hands of Varlets, not to be carv'd out. Sir, are these the pieces? _Young Lo_. They are the Morals of the Age, the vertues, men made of gold. _Sav_. Of your gold you mean Sir. _Young Lo_. This is a man of War, and cryes go on, and wears his colours. _Sav_. In's nose. _Young Lo_. In the fragrant field. This is a Traveller Sir, knows men and manners, and has plow'd up the Sea so far till both the Poles have knockt, has seen the Sun take Coach, and can distinguish the colour of his Horses, and their kinds, and had a _Flanders_-Mare leapt there. _Sav_. 'Tis much. _Tra_. I have seen more Sir. _Sav_. 'Tis even enough o' Conscience; sit down, and rest you, you are at the end of the world already. Would you had as good a Living Sir, as this fellow could lie you out of, he has a notable gift in't. _Young Lo_. This ministers the smoak, and this the Muses. _Sav_. And you the Cloaths, and Meat, and Money, you have a goodly generation of 'em, pray let them multiply, your Brother's house is big enough, and to say truth, h'as too much Land, hang it durt. _Young Lo_. Why now thou art a loving stinkard. Fire off thy Annotations and thy Rent-books, thou hast a weak brain _Savil_, and with the next long Bill thou wilt run mad. Gentlemen, you are once more welcome to three hundred pounds a year; we will be freely merry, shall we not? _Capt_. Merry as mirth and wine, my lovely _Loveless_. _Poet_. A serious look shall be a Jury to excommunicate any man from our company. _Tra_. We will not talk wisely neither? _Young Lo_. What think you Gentlemen by all this Revenue in Drink? _Capt_. I am all for Drink. _Tra_. I am dry till it be so. _Poet_. He that will not cry Amen to this, let him live sober, seem wise, and dye o'th' _Coram_. _Young Lo_. It shall be so, we'l have it all in Drink, let Meat and Lodging go, they are transitory, and shew men meerly mortal: then we'l have Wenches, every one his Wench, and every week a fresh one: we'l keep no powdered flesh: all these we have by warrant, under the title of things necessary. Here upon this place I ground it, The obedience of my people, and all necessaries: your opinions Gentlemen? _Capt_. 'Tis plain and evident that he meant Wenches. _Sav_. Good Sir let me expound it? _Capt_. Here be as sound men, as your self Sir. _Poet_. This do I hold to be the interpretation of it: In this word Necessary, is concluded all that be helps to Man; Woman was made the first, and therefore here the chiefest.