Viol. I cannot tell, I found no Christian to give me succor.
Val. When they take a Thief, I'll take Ostend agen; the whorsons drink Opium in their Ale, and then they sleep like tops; as for their bills, they only serve to reach down Bacon to make Rashers on; now let me know whom I have done this courtesie too, that I may thank my early rising for it.
Viol. Sir, All I am, you see.
Val. You have a name I'm sure, and a kindred, a Father, friend, or something that must own you; shee's a handsome young Wench; What Rogues were these to Rob her?
Vio. Sir, you see all I dare reveale,
And as you are a Gentleman press me no further;
For there begins a grief, whose bitterness
Will break a stronger heart than I have in me,
And 'twill but make you heavy with the hearing,
For your own goodness sake desire it not.
Val. If you would not have me enquire that, How do you live then?
Viol. How I have liv'd, is still one question,
Which must not be resolv'd—
How I desire to live, is in your liking,
So worthy an opinion I have of you.
Val. Is in my liking? How I pray thee? tell me, i'faith I'll do you any good lies in my power; she has an eye would raise a bedrid man; come, leave your fear, and tell me, that's a good Wench.
Viol. Sir, I would serve—
Val. Who would'st thou serve? do not weep and tell me.