MUS. O Lord, sir, need will have his course: I was not made to
this vile use; well, the edge of the enemy could not have abated me
so much: it's hard when a man hath served in his Prince's cause
and be thus. Signior, let me derive a small piece of silver from
you, it shall not be given in the course of time, by this good
ground, I was fain to pawn my rapier last night for a poor supper,
I am a Pagan else: sweet Signior --

LOR. SE. Believe me, I am rapt with admiration,
To think a man of thy exterior presence
Should (in the constitution of the mind)
Be so degenerate, infirm, and base.
Art thou a man? and sham'st thou not to beg?
To practise such a servile kind of life?
Why, were thy education ne'er so mean,
Having thy limbs: a thousand fairer courses
Offer themselves to thy election.
Nay, there the wars might still supply thy wants,
Or service of some virtuous gentleman,
Or honest labour; nay, what can I name,
But would become thee better than to beg?
But men of your condition feed on sloth,
As doth the Scarab on the dung she breeds in,
Not caring how the temper of your spirits
Is eaten with the rust of idleness.
Now, afore God, whate'er he be that should
Relieve a person of thy quality,
While you insist in this loose desperate course,
I would esteem the sin not thine, but his.