Pen. Oh the most precious vanity of this world;
When such dry'd Neats-tongues must be soak'd and larded
With young fat supple wenches! Oh the Devil.
What can he do, he cannot suck an egg off
But his back's loose i'th' hilts: go thy wayes Captain,
Well may thy warlike name work Miracles,
But if e'er thy founder'd courser win [match] more,
Or stand right but one train—
Enter three Gentlemen.
1 Gen. Now Signior Shadow,
What art thou thinking of, how to rob thy Master?
Pen. Of his good deeds? The Thief that undertakes that
Must have a hook will poze all Hell to hammer:
Have ye dined Gentlemen, or do you purpose?
2 Gent. Dined, two long hours ago.
Pen. Pray ye take me with ye.
3 Gent. To supper dost thou mean?
Pe[n]. To any thing
That has the smell of meat in't: tell me true, Gentlemen,
Are not you three going to be sinful?
To iropard a joynt, or so? I have found your faces,
And see whore written in your eyes.
1 Gent. A parlous rascal,
Thou art much upon the matter.
Pen. Have a care Gentlemen,
'Tis a sore age, very sore age, lewd age,
And women now are like old Knights adventures,
Full of inchanted flames, and dangerous.