Thou most contemptible Slave.

_Sce._ Dog, mangy Mongrel,
Thou murdring mischief, in the shape of Souldier
To make all Souldiers hatefull; thou disease
That nothing but the Gallows can give ease to.--

_Dol._ Thou art so impudent, that I admire thee,
And know not what to say.

_Sep._ I know your anger
And why you prate thus: I have found your melancholy:
Ye all want mony, and you are liberal Captains,
And in this want will talk a little desperately:
Here's gold, come share; I love a brave Commander:
And be not peevish, do as _Cæsar_ does:
He's merry with his wench now, be you jovial,
And let's all laugh and drink: would he have partners?
I do consider all your wants, and weigh 'em,
He has the Mistris, you shall have the maids,
I'le bring 'em to ye, to your arms.

_Ant._ I blush,
All over me, I blush, and sweat to hear him:
Upon my conscience, if my arms were on now
Through them I should blush too: pray ye let's be walking.

_Sce._ Yes, yes: but e're we goe, I'le leave this lesson,
And let him study it: first Rogue, then Pander,
Next Devil that will be; get thee from mens presence,