Sir Tim. Lord, Lord, that you should not know your Friend and humble Servant, Tim. Tawdrey—But thou look’st as if thou hadst not been a-bed yet.
Bel. No more I have.
Sir Tim. Nay, then thou losest precious time, I’ll not detain thee. [Offers to go.
Bel. Thou art mistaken, I hate all Woman-kind—
Sir Tim. How, how!
Bel, Above an Hour—hark ye, Knight—I am as leud, and as debaucht as thou art.
Sir Tim. What do you mean, Frank?
Bel. To tell a Truth, which yet I never did. —I whore, drink, game, swear, lye, cheat, rob, pimp, hector, all, all I do that’s vitious.
Sir Tim. Bless me!
Bel. From such a Villian, hah!