Lig.

  Madam I should have scene you.

Spa.

  O good Sir forgive me.

Lig.

  Forgive you, why I am no kin to you, am I?

Spa.

  Should it be measur’d by my meane deserts,
  Indeed you are not.

Lig.

  Thou couldst prate unhappily
  Ere thou couldst goe, would thou couldst doe as well. 
  And how does your custome hold out here. Spa.  Sir.

Lig.

  Are you in private still, or how?

Spa.

  What doe you meane?

Lig.

Doe you take money? are you come to sell sinne yet? perhaps I can helpe you to liberall Clients:  or has not the King cast you off yet?  O thou wild creature, whose best commendation is, that thou art a young Whore.  I would thy Mother had liv’d to see this:  or rather would I had dyed ere I had seene it:  why did’st not make me acquainted when thou wert first resolv’d to be a Whore?  I would have seene thy hot lust satisfied more privately.  I would have kept a dancer, and a whole consort of Musitions in mine owne house, onely to fiddle thee. Spa.  Sir I was never whore.

Lig.

  If thou couldst not say so much for thy selfe thou shouldst be
  Carted.

Tig.

  Ligones I have read it, and like it,
  You shall deliver it.

Lig.

  Well Sir I will:  but I have private busines with you.

Tig.

  Speake, what ist?

Lig.

  How has my age deserv’d so ill of you,
  That you can picke no strumpets in the Land,
  But out of my breed.

Tig.

  Strumpets good Ligones?

Lig.

  Yes, and I wish to have you know, I scorne
  To get a Whore for any Prince alive,
  And yet scorne will not helpe me thinkes:  My daughter
  Might have beene spar’d, there were enough beside.

Tig.

  May I not prosper, but Shee’s innocent
  As morning light for me, and I dare sweare
  For all the world.

Lig.

  Why is she with you then? 
  Can she waite on you better then your men,
  Has she a gift in plucking off your stockings,
  Can she make Cawdles well, or cut your Comes,
  Why doe you keepe her with you?  For your Queene
  I know you doe contemne her, so should I
  And every Subject else thinke much at it.

Tig.

  Let um thinke much, but tis more firme then earth
  Thou seest thy Queene there.

Lig.

  Then have I made a faire hand, I cald her Whore,
  If I shall speake now as her Father, I cannot chuse
  But greatly rejoyce that she shall be a Queene:  but if
  I should speake to you as a Statesman shee were more fit
  To be your Whore.