Cur. You need not doubt him,
For long since as 'twas thought on a griev'd Conscience,
He left his Father, and his Friends: more pity:
For truth reports he was a noble Gentleman.
Alp. Let him be what he will: he was a beggar,
And there I'le leave him.
Seb. The more the Court must answer;
But certainly I think, though she might favour him,
And love his goodness, as he was an honest man:
She never with loose eyes stuck on his person.
Alp. She is so full of Conscience too, and charity,
And outward holiness, she will undo me:
Relieves more Beggars, than an Hospital;
Enter Alinda, and Juletta.
And all poor Rogues, that can but say their prayers,
And tune their pipes to Lamentations,
She thinks she is bound to dance to: good morrow to you,
And that's as ye deserve too: you know my mind,
And study to observe it: do it cheerfully,
And readily, and home.
Alin. I shall obey ye.
But, noble Sir.
Alp. Come, come, away with your flatteries,
And your fine phrases.
Cur. Pray ye be gentle to her.
Alp. I know 'em; and know your feats: if you will find me
Noble and loving, seek me in your duty,
You know I am too indulgent.