Die. Does any body entertain his Horse?
Host. Yes, Lazaro has him.
Enter Hostess with a glass of water.
Inc. Go you see him in person.
Host. Sir, taste a little of this, of mine own water,
I did distill't my self; swe[e]t Lilly look upon me,
You are but newly blown, my pretty Tulip.
Faint not upon your stalk, 'tis firm and fresh
Stand up so bolt upright, you are yet in growing.
The. Pray you let me have a chamber.
Host. That you shall, Sir.
The. And where I may be private, I intreat you.
Host. For that in troth Sir, we ha no choice: our house
Is but a vent of need, that now and then
Receives a guest, between the greater Towns
As they come late; only one room.
Inc. She means, Sir, it is none
Of those wild, scatter'd heaps, call'd Inns, where scarce
The Host is heard, though he wind his horn t' his people,
Here is a competent pile, wherein the man,
Wife, Servants, all do live within the whistle.