_Sul._ There was an _English_-man.
_Ja._ I there was an _English_-man;
You'l scant find any now, to make that name good:
There were those _English_ that were men indeed,
And would perform like men, but now they are vanisht:
They are so taken up in their own Country,
And so beaten of their speed by their own women,
When they come here, they draw their legs like Hackneys:
Drink, and their own devices have undone 'em.
_Sul._ I must have one that's strong, no life in _Lisbon_ else,
Perfect and young: my Custom with young Ladies,
And high fed City dames, will fall, and break else.
I want my self too, in mine age to nourish me:
They are all sunk I mantain'd: now what's this business,
What goodly fellow's that?
_Enter_ Rutilio _and_ Officers.
_Rut._ Why do you drag me?
Pox o' your justice; let me loose.
_1 Offi._ Not so Sir.
_Rut._ Cannot a man fall into one of your drunken Cellars,
And venture the breaking on's neck, your trap-doors open,
But he must be us'd thus rascally?
_1 Offi._ What made you wandring
So late i'th' night? you know that is imprisonment.
_Rut._ May be I walk in my sleep.
_2 Offi._ May be we'l walk ye.
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