Cap. I, an Antient old gentlewoman that is growne very poore, and nobodie knowes where she dwells very hard to find her out, especially for a Capt.; you will find it very difficult for a Livetenent. But wee will endeavour the best wee can; you see my courses, I have travel'd to find her out, and I could never yet see her at a baudihouse.
Un. Who is to be seene at a baudihouse? to the right hand countermarch.
Tho. He talkes of vertue, sir.
Un. Vertue? she never comes there; why do you thinke she should be there, Captaine?
Cap. Why, because she is an old gentlewoman and might keepe the house.
Tho. Alas, Captaine, Mistris Vertue is poore and leane.
Cap. Nay, then she is not fit to be a baud, but tell me did you ever see her, or if so did you ever doo't with her?
Un. No, but twas none of my fault; I know not what I may do in time when she understands the wordes of Command.
Tho. He does not meane Mistris Dorothy: but, Captaine, I would faine know the reason why your baudes are so fat still.
Cap. A plaine case: they lie fallow and get hart, then they keepe themselves so in health and so soluble with stewd prunes; and then sipping of sack is a great matter to fatten 'em. But they are as good people as a man shall keepe company withall, and bring up the young gentlewomen so vertuously. I came into one of their houses tother day for a carreere, and I found the baud sick upon her death bed, very religious and much given to repentance for those poore sins she had comitted. When she had taken order for her soule, she told me the young gentlewoman I look'd for was in the next roome; and desiring her upon her blessing to give me content, she turnes herselfe to the wall and gives up the ghost very privatly, because she was loth to trouble us.