stra_
And fayre _Scribonia_, weare but you too safe,
Yet som hope weare reserved me.

_Sarl_. I praye, _Mildewe_,
When you so early to the bottom dyv'd,
For whom weare you a fishinge?

_Mild_. Marry, for maydens;
Woold I knewe howe to catch them. But my gutts,
Howe they are sweld with sea brine!

_Sarl_. Tis good phisick
To cure thee of the mangy.

_Mild_. Wretched man!
That have no more left of a magazine
Then these wett cloathes upon mee, nay the woorst
Of all I had and purposely put on
Only to lyv a shipp-board.

_Sarl_. Once to-day
Thou wert in wealthe above mee, nowe the seas have
Left us an equall portion.

_Mild_. In all the wourld
I vowe I am not woorthe a lighted faggott
Or a poore pan of charcoale.

_Sarl_. Justly punisht
Thou that hast all thy lyfe tyme dealt in fyre-woorks,
Stoves and hott bathes to sweet in, nowe to have
Thy teethe to falter in thy head for could
Nimbler then virginall Jacks.[98]

_Mild_. Th'art a sweete guest.

_Sarl_. Too good for such an host, better to have bin
Lodgd in som spittle; or, if possible,
To bee imprisoned in som surgeon's box
That smells of salves and plasters.

_Mild_. Nowe what sharke
Or wyde-mouth'd whale shall swallowe upp my budgett,
May it at th'instant choake him!

_Sarl_. Cursedly twas got,
And nowe thy curse goes with it.

_Mild_. But those giurles!
Nought so much greives mee as to part with them
Before they lost theire maiden-headds. Had they lyvd
Till I had seen them women, and oth' trade,
My tast and care bestowed to bringe them upp
I should have thought well spent, which nowe with them
Is meerely cast away.

_Enter Godfrey_.

_Sarlab_. Peace now your pratinge and heare another spirit.

_Godfr_.[99] The pale religious, which was the pledge
Of a kisse lascivious, I have given backe,
Ey, and to boote the water; but within
There's such a coyle betwixt the 2 young giurles
Such quakinge, shakinge, quiveringe, shiveringe
Such cryeinge, and such talk of flyinge, then of hyding,
And that there's no abydinge; one cryes out and calls,
The others redy to breake downe the walls;
Then weepinge they whisper together,
And saye they woold roone if they knew whither,
And are indeede putt to such strange affrights
That I was afrayde they weare hunted with sprights,
And therefore cam and left them: lass, poor giurles,
They are in piteous feare.

_Mild_. Hee talkt of guerles: why may not these bee they,
Escapt as wee? staye, younge man, go