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Full speech
I, therein they abuse and honourable Princess, it is thought. Plain in the styling her Infanta, and giving her three names. Well, and there were no wiser then I, I would sow him in a sack, and send him by sea to his Princess. Have patience Gossips, say that contrary to our expectations it prove right, seasonable, salt butter. To show how much it differs from Urbanity. Oh, they are monstrous! scurvy! and stale! and too exotic! ill cooked! and ill dished! For my partly, I believe it: and there were no wiser then I, I would have never a cunning Schoolmaster in England. I mean a Cun ning-Man, a Schoolmaster; that is a Coniurour, or a Poet, or that had any acquaintance with a Poet. They make all their scholars Play-boys! Is't not a fine sighed, to see all our children made Enter luders? Do we pay our money for this? we send them to learn their Grammar, and their Terence, and they learn their playbooks? well, they talk, we shall have no more Parliaments (God bless us) but an'wee have, I hope, Zeale-of-the-land Buzy, and my Gossip, Rabby Trou ble-truth will start up, and see we shall have painful good Ministers to keep School, and Catechise our youth, and not teach them to speak Plays, and Act Fables of false news, in this manner, to the super-uexa cion of Town and Country, with a wanion. C Ome, Gentlemen, let's breath from healths a while. This Lickfinger has made us a good dinner, For our Pecuniam: what shall's do with our selves, While the women water? and the Fiddlers eat? The matter began to be good, but now: and he has spoiled it all, with his Beggar there! The young heir grew a fine Gentleman, in this last Act! And feasted them, and his Mistress! It was spitefully done of the Poet, to make the Chuff take him off in his height, when he was going to do all his brave deeds! And the Courtiers! I protest, I was in love with Master Fitton. He did wear all he had, from the hatband, to the shooe-tye, so politically, and would stoop, and leere? And all her women, at once, as he did! Or the fine Madrigal -man, in rhyme, to have run him out of the Country, Like and Irish rat. And both the Poet, and himself, to ask them all forgiveness! In two large sheets of paper— And those filled with news! You say wittily, Gossip, and therefore let a protest go out a gainst him. For a decayed wit— Censure! Very scurvily, me thinks, and sufficiently nought. Or a Sea-captain, half starved. Like enough. The Conjurer coosen'd him with a candles end, he was and Ass. Expect, intend it. Y Our Grace is sad me thinks, and melancholy! You do not look upon me with that face, As you were wont, my Godnesse, bright Pecuniam: Although your Grace be fallen, of two i'the hundred, In vulgar estimation; yet am I, You Graces servant still: and teach this body, To bend, and these my aged knees to buckle, In adoration, and joust worship of you. Indeed, I do confess, I have no shape To make a minion of, but I'm your Martyr, Your Graces Martyr. I can hear the Rogues, As I do walk the streets, whisper, and point, There goes old Peni-boy, the slave of money, Rich Peni-boy, Lady Pecunia's drudge, A sordid Rascal, one that never made Good meal in his sleep, but sells the acates are sent him, Fish, Foul, and venison, and preserves himself, Like and old hoary Rat, with mouldy piecrust. This I do hear, rejoicing, I can suffer This, and much more, for your good Graces sake. Why, this is duller and duller! intolerable! scurvy! neither Devil nor Fool in this Play! pray God, some on us be not a witch, Gossip, to forespeak the matter thus. A notable tough Rascal! this old Peny-boy! right City-bred! I would rather the Courtier had found out some trick to beg him, from his estate! And, for ever, forfeit—
Plot summary
Plot — The Staple of News
. _ Pug the junior devil is keen to visit earth. Satan svarns him that his ideas of effective devilment are half a century out of date, but grants him leave to spend the day in London, made flesh and subject to all the frailties and limitations of the human body. A ready-made body is available, in the shape of a recently hanged cutpurse, but Pug will have to make his own arrangements for clothes. Another proviso is that he must serve the first man he meets. Unfortunately for Pug, he turns out to be a twit: Fabian Fitzdottrel. Fitzdottrel longs to see the devil, and agrees to accept Pug as an unpaid servant because he gives his mame as Devil. The same obsession makes Fitzdottrel eager to see a new play, The Devil is an Ass, but he needs some finery to show off as he sits on the stage. Wittipol is eager to sleep with Fitzdottrel’s wife, and offers him a suitable cloak in exchange for fifteen minutes’ uninterrupted conversation with the lady. He uses the time to proposition her, and engages her interest even though she has been forbidden to reply. Fitzdottrel is introduced to Merecraft, a purveyor of imaginative financial schemes, who offers to make him rich and a duke through land reclamation in the eastern fens. Fitzdottrel agrees to meet with him, leaving Pug to ensure that nobody attempts to visit his wife. Pug instead brings her a follow-up message from Wittipol, then makes advances to her on his own account, but is caught by Fitzdottrel and gets a beating. Wittipol’s friend Manly has a room which abuts Mistress Fitzdottrel’s gallery, which he uses to have a second meeting with her. This is much more intimate than the first, despite being conducted through the windows of adjacent buildings. Pug gets back into favour by tipping off Fitzdottrel, who puts a stop to the assignation and threatens to take up another woman to share his expectations and be his Duchess. Merecraft suggests that what Fitzdottrel’s wife needs is to be taught proper manners, and recommends a widow who knows the ways of the Spanish court, who might be persuaded to undertake the task if sent an expensive ring as a gift, and who is entirely fictitious. His accomplice Engine proposes hiring an actor to impersonate her, but Merecraft worries that his business methods might be leaked to a playwright and end up on stage; in the event, Engine finds a gentleman to take on the role instead, who happens to be Wittipol. Fitzdottrel cannot get his wife to part with a ring of her own, so…