_Val._ What's my knowledge Uncle, is't not worth mony? what's my
understanding, travel, reading, wit, all these digested, my daily making
men, some to speak, that too much flegm had frozen up, some that spoke
too much, to hold their peace, and put their tongues to pensions, some
to wear their cloaths, and some to keep 'em, these are nothing Uncle;
besides these wayes, to teach the way of nature, a manly love, community
to all that are deservers, not examining how much, or what's done for
them, 'tis wicked, and such a one like you, chews his thoughts [double],
making 'em only food for his repentance.

_Enter two_ Servants.

_1 Ser._ This cloak and hat Sir, and my Masters love.

_Val._ Commend's to thy Master, and take that, and leave 'em at my
lodging.

_1 Ser._ I shall do it Sir.

_Val._ I do not think of these things.

_2 Ser._ Please you Sir, I have gold here for you.

_Val._ Give it me, drink that and commend me to thy Master; look
you Uncle, do I beg these?

_Unc._ No sure, 'tis your worth, Sir.

_Val._ 'Tis like enough, but pray satisfie me, are not these ways