Wel. Why?
Ser. Why, they are transparent Sir, you may see through them: and such a house!
Wel. Come Sir, the truth of your discovery.
Ser. Sir, they are in tribes like Jewes: the Kitchin and the Dayrie make one tribe, and have their faction and their fornication within themselves; the Buttery and the Landry are another, and there's no love lost; the chambers are intire, and what's done there, is somewhat higher than my knowledge: but this I am sure, between these copulations, a stranger is kept vertuous, that is, fasting. But of all this the drink Sir.
_Wel. _What of that Sir?
_Ser. _Faith Sir, I will handle it as the time and your patience will give me leave. This drink, or this cooling Julip, of which three spoonfuls kills the Calenture, a pint breeds the cold Palsie.
_Wel. _Sir, you bely the house.
_Ser. _I would I did Sir. But as I am a true man, if 'twere but one degree colder, nothing but an Asses hoof would hold it.
_Wel. _I am glad on't Sir, for if it had proved stronger, you had been tongue ti'd of these commendations. Light me the candle Sir, I'le hear no more. [Exeunt.
Enter young Loveless _and his _Comrades, with wenches, and two Fidlers.