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Full speech
Above with my Ladies women, reading verses. I did ask him if he were Amphibion Broker. I faith Sir, and I will try. Oh! it shall be palpable, Make thee run thorough a hoop, or a thombe-ring, The nose of a tobacco pipe, and draw Thy ductile bones out, Like a knitting needle, To serve my subtle turns. I have herd you have offered Sir, to lock up smoke, And cauke your windores, spar up all your doors, Thinking to keep it a close prisoner wi'you, And wept, when it went out, Sir, at your chimney. Come, let's thither then, I have supped in Apollo! No, But with two Gentlewomen, called, the Graces This was truth, Sir. The same. He holds no man can be a Poet, That is not a good Cook, to know the palates, And several tastes o'the time. He draws all Arts Out of the Kitchen, but the Art of Poetry, which he concludes the same with Cookery. He's a rare fellow, without question! but He holds some Paradoxes. And knows the Clergies taste! Away then. We jeer all kind of persons We meet withal, of any rank or quality, And if we cannot jeer them, we jeer our selves. They were the madder sort. I know. Why? of and Advocate, he grew the Client. And showed the Law of nature Was there above the Common-Law. We called him a Coat-card O'the last order. Some readings have it so, my manuscript Does speak it, arlet. Or Archpriest of Canters, Nay, I'll not loose my argument, Lickfinger ; Before these Gentlemen, I affirm, The perfect, and true strain of poetry, Is rather to be given the quick Cellar, Then the fat Kitchen. It is granted. I have almost done, I want but e'ne to finish. It is a Madrigal, I affect that kind Of Poem, much. I made it to the tune the Fiddlers played, That we all liked so well. The Sun is father of all metals, you know, Silver, and gold. Now there, I want a line to finish, Sir. So takes she place! Who'ld lie in a room, with a closestool, and garlic? And kennel with his dogs? that had a Prince Like this young Peny-boy, to sojourn with? Scatter your self amongst us— The sack, the sack! Barbers are at hand. You have now no money, A snarling Rascal, hence. A rare fellow! In troth A divine Whimsy ! He's alive, me thinks. Bore you rather. Nor Statute. He will turn the better jeerer. Let's do't in noise. Charge, man of war. Your Phessants, & fat Swans ? But such as will not keep your Capitol ? Or turn pure Jack-a-lent after all this? On Due. But, by that time, he'll have no blood to rear them. They bark, see defend ndo. As bright as is the Sun her Sire, Or Earth her mother, in her best atyre, Or Mint, the Midwife, with her sire, Comes forth her Grace ! The splendour of the wealthiest Mines! The stamp, and strength of all imperial lines, Both majesty and beauty shines, In her sweet face! Look how a Torch, of Taper light, Or of that Torches flame, a Beacon bright;
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…