BAWDBER

I hope your Highness Is pleased that I shall still hold my place with you, For I have be so long used to provide you Fresh bits of flesh since mine grew stale, that surely If cashiered now, I shall prove a bade Cator In the Fishmarket of cold chastity, And for me, If I fail in my office to provide you Fresh delicates, hang me. Faith I know none else, allmy bringing up Aimdeat no other learning. The Phystian Helps ever at a dead lift; a fine calling, That can bothraise, and take down, our upon thee. Behold the man yond talk of. This lie bears a similitude of truele, Fie, you take the hangmans place. Would your highness Were pleased to inform me better of your purpose: I feel you Madam, The man that shall receive this from my Lord, Shall have a thousand crowns. beside His day of bastinadoing passed over, He shall not loose your grace, nor your good favour. It must be a man Of credit in the Court, that is to be The foil unto your valour. If he be a Lord, It'll be the greater grace. Why then behold that valiant man and Lord, That for your sake will take a cudgeling, For be assure when it is spread abroad That you have dealt with me, the'ile give you out For one of the nine Worthies. This man of war will advance. Wind him back as you favour my ears, I love no noise in my head, my brains have hitherto Been imployde in silent businesses. Give ground while I drill my wits to the encounter, Deuitry. I take it. Is there another parcel of you, if it be at pawn I will gladly redeem it to make you wholly mine. Thanks for your good remembrance, You have been a soldier Deuitry, and born arms. Much good may it do you Sir. It is time you put up your sword, and run a way for meat sir, nay if I had not withdrawn ere now, I might have kept the; fast with you: but since the way to thrive is never late, what is the nearest course to profit think you? True sense, bawdry. I'll show you a new way of prostitution, fallen back, further yet, further, there is fifty crowns, do but as much to Protaldye the Queens fauoret, they are doubled. Give him but and affront as he comes to the presence, and in his drawing make way Like a true bawd to his valour, the son's thy own; if you take a scratch in the arm or so, every drop of blood weighs down a ducat. See, you shall not belong earning your wages, your work's before your eyes. What opinion will the managing of this affair Bring to my wisdom? my invention tickles With apprehension on't: This is the man. Remember the condition as you look for payment. Plague of the scruiners running hand, What a blow is this to my reputation? Where could I wish my self now? in the I'll of dogs, So I might escape scratching, for I see by her cats eyes I shall be clawed fearfully. We are again undone. If now your ever ready witfaile to protect us, We shall be all discouerde. Do you hear Lord General, Does not your new stampde honour on the sudden Begin to grow sick? Sure although I am a bawd, yet being a Lord They cannot whip me for't, what's your opinion? You to ill to keep such distance, your parts have been long known To me, howsoever you please to forget acquaintance. I will assure you he can sleep no more Then a hooded hawk, a centinel to him, Or one of the city Constables are tops. Armies of those we call physicians, Some with lettice caps, some posset drinks, some pills, Twenty consulting here about a drench, As many here to blood him; Then comes a Done of Spain, and he prescribes More cooling opium then would kill a turk, Or quench a whore ith dogdayes; after him A wise Italian, and he cries, tie unto him A woman of fourscore, whose bones are marble, Whose blood snow water, not so much heat about her As may conceive a prayer: after him And English Doctor, with a bunch of pot herbs; And he cries out Endiffe and suckery, With a few mallow roots and butter milk, And talks of oil made of a churchmans charity, Yet still he wakes. I could have prayed, and handsomely. But age and and ill memory: Yet if there be a man of faith i'the Court, And can pray for a pension. Then pray for me too. Bless us! For I do now begin to feel my self Turning into a halter, and the ladder Turning from me, one pulling at my legs too. I would take whipping, And pay a Fine now. Yes, any thing but gelding, I am not yet in quiet Noble Lady, Let it be done to night, for without doubt Tomorrow we are capons. Such a sweat, I never was in yet, clipped of my minstrels, My toys to prick up wenches withal; uphold me, It runs Like snowballs through me. Lord how she looks! We shall be gelded. And if he have place there, it's not the worse: They are too wise that dare know Somethings amiss, heanen help all.