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._

_Yo. Lo. _Come my brave man of war, trace out thy darling,
And you my learned Council, sit and turn boyes,
Kiss till the Cow come home, kiss close, kiss close knaves.
My Modern Poet, thou shalt kiss in couplets.

_Enter with_ Wine.

Strike up you merry varlets, and leave your peeping,
This is no pay for Fidlers.

_Capt._ O my dear boy, thy _Hercules,_ thy Captain
Makes thee his _Hylas,_ his delight, his solace.
Love thy brave man of war, and let thy bounty
Clap him in _Shamois_: Let there be deducted out of our main potation
Five Marks in hatchments to adorn this thigh,
Crampt with this rest of peace, and I will fight
Thy battels.

_Yo. Lo._ Thou shalt hav't boy, and fly in Feather,
Lead on a March you Michers.

_Enter_ Savill.

_Savill_. O my head, O my heart, what a noyse and change is here! would I
had been cold i'th' mouth before this day, and ne're have liv'd to see
this dissolution. He that lives within a mile of this place, had as good
sleep in the perpetual noyse of an Iron Mill. There's a dead Sea of drink
i'th' Seller, in which goodly vessels lye wrackt, and in the middle of
this deluge appear the tops of flagons and black jacks, like Churches
drown'd i'th' marshes.

_Yo. Lo._ What, art thou come? My sweet Sir _Amias_ welcome to _Troy_.
Come thou shalt kiss my _Helen_, and court her in a dance.

_Sav_. Good Sir consider?

_Yo. Lo_. Shall we consider Gentlemen? How say you?

_Capt_. Consider? that were a simple toy i'faith, consider? whose moral's