you in private still, or how?

_Spa_.

What do you mean?

_Lyg_.

Do you take mony? are you come to sell sin yet? perhaps I can
help you to liberal Clients: or has not the King cast you off
yet? O thou vile creature, whose best commendation is, that thou
art a young whore, I would thy Mother had liv'd to see this, or
rather that I had died ere I had seen it; why didst not make me
acquainted when thou wert first resolv'd to be a whore, I would
have seen thy hot lust satisfied more privately: I would have
kept a dancer and a whole consort of musicians in my own house
only to fiddle thee.

_Spa_.

Sir, I was never whore.

_Lyg_.

If thou couldst not say so much for thy self, thou shouldst be
carted.

_Tigr_.

_Lygones_, I have read it, and I like it, you shall deliver it.

_Lyg_.

Well Sir, I will: but I have private business with you.

_Tigr_.

Speak, what is't?

_Lyg_. How has my age deserv'd so ill of you, that you can
pick no strumpets i'th' land, but out of my breed?

_Tigr_.

Strumpets, good _Lygones_?

_Lyg_.

Yes, and I wish to have you know, I scorn to get a whore for any
prince alive, and yet scorn will not help methinks: my Daughter
might have been spar'd, there were enow besides.

_Tigr_.

May I not prosper but she's innocent as morning light for me, and
I dare swear for all the world.

_Lyg_.

Why is she with you then? can she wait on you better than your
man, has she a gift in plucking off your stockings, can she make
Cawdles well or cut your cornes? Why do you keep her with you?
For a Queen I know you do contemn her, so should I, and every
subject else think much at it.

_Tigr_.

Let 'em think much, but 'tis more firm than earth: thou see'st
thy Queen there.

_Lyg_.

Then have I made a fair hand, I call'd her Whore. If I shall
speak now as her Father, I cannot chuse but greatly rejoyce that
she shall be a Queen: but if I shall speak to you as a
States-man, she were more fit to be your whore.

_Tigr_.

Get you about your business to _Arbaces_, now you talk idlely.

_Lyg_.

Yes Sir, I will go, and shall she be a Queen? she had more wit
than her old Father, when she ran away: shall she be Queen? now
by my troth 'tis fine, I'le dance out of all measure at her
wedding: shall I not Sir?

_Tigr_.

Yes marry shalt thou.

_Lyg_.

I'le make these withered kexes bear my body two hour