PUG

For that, great Chief ! As time shall work, I do but ask my mon'th. Which every petty pui'nee Devil has; Within that term, the Coutt of Hell will hear Something, may gain a longer grant, perhaps. Oh Chief ! You do not know, deer Chief, what there is in me. Prove me but for a fortnight, for a week, And lend me but a Vice, to carry with me, To practice therewith any playfellow, And, you will see, there will come more vpon't, Then you'll imagine, precious Chief. Why, any Fraud ; Or Covetousness ; or Lady Vanity ; Or old Iniquity: I'll call him hither. Is it not excellent, Chief ? how nimble he is! Brave, brave, Iniquity ! will not this do, Chief ? Rare, rare! Most gracious Chief! Any conditions to be gone. Sir, I shall put your worship to no charge, More then my meat, and that but very little, I'll serve you for your love. Sir, I am a Devil. A true Devil, S r . Sir, that's a popular error, deceives many: But I am that, I tell you. My name is Devil, S r . In deed, S r . Of Derbyshire, S r . about the Peak. Yes, Devils arse, S r . Yes, if I do not Offend, you can, sure. I shall do't. Sir. Engine, you hope o'your half piece? It's there, Sir. Wittipol knocks his friend o'the breast. Be gone. Friend Manly, who's within here? fixed? Above, S r . in her chamber. I'll take care, Sir: They shall not trouble you, if they would. Dainty she-Diuell ! Mistress, it is, but first, let me assure The excellence, of Mistress's, I am, Although my Master's man, my Mistress slave, The servant of her secrets, and sweet turns, And know, what fitly will conduce to either. The Gentleman, M rs , Who was at the cloak-charge to speak with you, This morning, who expects only to take Some small commandments from you, what you please, Worthy your form, he says, and gentlest manners. He goes out. This is some fool turned! Yes. Says he? That which my self would say to you, if I durst. That you are proud, sweet Mistress? and withal, A little ignorant, to entertain The good that's proffered; and (by your beauty's leave) Not all so wise, as some true politic wife Would be: who having matched with such a Nupson (I speak it with my Master's peace) whose face Hath left t'accuse him, now, for't does confess him, What you can make him; will yet (out of scruple, And a spiced conscience) defraud the poor Gentleman, At least delay him in the thing he longs for, And makes it hs whole study, how to compass, Only a title. Could but he write Cuckold, He had his ends. For, look you— My precious M rs . If it were not clearly, His worshipful ambition; and the top of it; The very forked top too: why should he Keep you, thus mured up in a backroom, Mistress, Allow you never a casement to the street, Fear of engendering by the eyes, with gallants, Forbid you paper, pen and ink, Like Ratsbane. Search your half pint of muscatell, lest a letter Be sunk i'the pot: and hold your new-laid egg Against the fire, lest any charm be writ there? Will you make benefit of truth, deer Mistress, If I do tell it you: I do't not often? I am set over you, employed, indeed, To watch your steps, your looks, your very breathings, And to report them to him. Now, if you Will be a true, right, delicate sweet Mistress, Why, we will make a Cokes of this Wise Master, We will, my Mistress, and absolute fine Cokes, And mock, to air, all the deep diligences Of such a solemn, and effectual Ass, And Ass to so good purpose, as wee'll use him. I will contrive it so, that you shall go To Plays, to Masques, to Meetings, and to Feasts. For, why is all this Rigging, and fine Tackle, Mistress, If you neat handsome vessels, of good sail, Put not forth ever, and anon, with your nets Abroad into the world. It is your fishing. I here, you shall choose your friends, your servants, Lady, Your squires of honour; I'll convey your letters, Fetch answers, do you all the offices, That can belong to your blood, and beauty. And, For the variety, at my times, although I am not in endue symmetry, the man Of that proportion; or in rule Of physic, of the joust complexion; Or of that truth of Picardill, in clothes, To boast a sovereignty over Ladies: yet I know, to do my turns, sweet Mistress. Come, kiss— Dear delicate Missed. I am your slave, Your little worm, that loves you: your fine Monkey ; Your Dog, your Jack, your Pug, that longs to be Stiled, o'your pleasures. Sweet Mistress, are you mad? Good S r . Would you had done, Sir. Gentle Sir. Oh! Is it so? Is there the interview? Have I drawn to you, at last, my cunning Lady ? The Devil is and Ass ! fooled of ! and beaten! Nay, made and instrument! and could not sent it! Well, since you have shown the malice of a woman, No less then her true wit, and learning, Mistress, I'll try, if little Pug have the malignity To recompense it, and so save his danger. It's not the pain, but the discredit of it, The Devil should not keep a body entire. This for the malice of it, And my revenge may pass! But, now, The Devil speaks be low. my conscience Tells me, I have profited the cause of Hell But little, in the breaking-off their loves. Which, if some other act of mine repair not, I shall hear ill of in my account. How far is't. Sir, be the Ladies brave, we go unto? And shall I see them, and speak to them? I do so long to have a little venery, While I am in this body! I would taste Pug leaps at Pitfall's coming in. Of every sin, a little, if it might be After the ma ̄ ner of man! Sweetheart ! Nothing but fallen in, to you, be your Blackbird, My pretty pit (as the Gentleman said) your Throstle: Lie tame, and taken with you; here'is gold! To buy you so much new stuffs, from the shop, Train's in his false cloak, brings a false mes sage, and gets the ring. Mere-craft follows pre sently, and asks for it. Ent. Train's as himself again. As I may take the old up — There it's. Nay look, Will you be foolish, Pit, Dear Pit. I sent it you. A fellow here, even now, Came for it i'your name. Here, But now, he had it. The Gentleman saw him. I was so earnest upon her, I marked not! The Devil confess that himself c oh zen'd. My devilish Chief has put me here in flesh, To shame me! This dull body I am in, I perceive nothing with! I offer at nothing, That will succeed! Satan himself, has taken a shape t'abuse me. It could not be else! Run from my flesh, if I could put off mankind! This's such a scorn! and will be a new exercise, For my Archduke ! Woe to the several cudgels, Must suffer, on this back! Can you no succours? Sir? Do you think so? Mere-craft promises faintly, yet comforts him. Will she be wone? And not be known on't after, unto him? And Sir, The Devil is doubtful. you will take care Th'excuse be perfect? The shame is more, I'll quit you of either. A Pox upon referring to Commissioners, I'had rather hear that it were passed the seals: Your Courtiers move so Snail-like i'your Business. Would I had not begun wi'you. Sir. I thank you, Sir, You talk of a University ! why, The Devil admires him. Hell is A Grammar-school to this! Was all this but the preface to my torment? A settled discreet pace, Madame. Good Sir— Oh, Chief, call me to Hell again, and free me. Not I, S r . To be able, Madame, First to inquire, then report the working, Of any Ladies physic, in sweet phrase, To find out a good Corn-cutter. Sure, if I be not yet, I shall be. All My days in Hell, were holidays to this! The colour, and the size, Madame. Get their nativities cast! Consult the Almanack-man which would be least? Which cleaneliest? Walk her out, And air her every morning! Yes! Who, Coming from Hell, could look for such Catechising? The Devil is and Ass. I do acknowledge it. Dear Chief, relieve me, or I perish. the have such impertinent vexations, A general Council of devils could not hit— Pug per ceiues it, and starts. Would! This is he, I took a sleep with his Wench, And borrowed his clothes. What might I do to balk him? Answ. him but not to purpose Is't so late Sir? I thank you, Sir. Yes it dos hold Sir, certain. A very pretty lace! But the Taylor cossend me. Sir, My master is the best at it. Let it be friday night. Your best songs Thom. of Be t'lem Only a couple of Cocks Sir, If we can get a Widgin, it's in season. My master, Sir, will pass his word for me. Truth is, Sir, I am the very Devil, and had leave To take this body, I am in, to serve you: Which was a Cutpurses, and hanged this Morning And it is likewise true, I stole this suit To cl that me with. But Sir let me not go To prison for it. I have hitherto Lost time, done nothing; shown, indeed, no partly OF my Devils nature. Now, I will so help Your malice, against these parties: so advance The business, that you have in hand of witchcraft, And your possession, as my self were in you. Teach you such tricks, to make your belly swell, And your eyes turn, to foam, to stare, to gnash Your teeth together, and to beat your self, Laugh loud, and feign six voices— Sir. There it is, Sir, leave me. To Newgate, brought? How is the name of Devil Discredited in me! What a lost fiend Shall I be, on return? My Chief will roar n triumph, now, that I have been on earth, A day, and done no noted thing, but brought That body back here, was hanged out this morning. Enter Ini quity the Vice. Well! would it once were midnight, that I knew My utmost. I think Time be drunk, and sleeps; He is so still, and moves not! I do glory Now i'my torment. Neither can I expect it, I have it with my fact. How? longer here a month? In a cart, to be hanged. He is a Devil ! and may be our Chief ! The great Superior Devil ! for his malice: Arch-devil ! I acknowledge him. He knew What I would suffer, when he tie'd me up thus In a rogues body: and he has (I thank him) His tyrannous pleasure on me, to confine me To the unlucky carcase of a Cutpurse, Wherein I could do nothing. I ask, He asks aid. Sir, credit for another, but till to morrow? Do you hear Sir, pray, in private. Why, when you please Sir, I am For three penny Gleek, your man