PUFF

Is the coast clear, are these combustions ceased, And may we drink Canary sack in peace? Shall we have no attendance here you rogues, Where be these rascals that skip up and down, Faster then Virginal jacks? drawers. On whom wait you sir rogue? When did you see sir Theophrastus Slop, The City Dog-maister? What have you for my supper. Zownes stay the dressing; you damned rogue, What shall I wait upon your greasy cook, And wait his leisure, go down stairs rogue, Now all her other customers be served, Ask if your Mistress have a snip of Mutton Yet left for me. And goodman rogue See what good thing your Kitchenmaid has left For me to work upon, my barrow-gutlings grumble And would have food: Say now the Vintners wife Should bring me up a Pheasant, Partridge, Quail, A pleasant banquet, and extremely love me, Desire me to eat, kiss, and protest, I should pay nothing for it, say she should drink Her self three quarters drunk, to win my love, Then give me a chain, worth some three score pounds, Say it worth but forty, say but twenty, For Citizens do seldom in their wooing, Give above twenty pounds: say then it's twenty, I'll go fell some fifteeene pounds worth of the chain, To buy some clothes, and shift my lousy linen, And wear the rest as a perpetual favour, About my arm in fashion of a Bracelet, Say then her husband should grow jealous, Idem make him drunk, and then I'll Cuckold him, But then a Vintners wife, some Rogues will say, Which sits at Bar for the receipt of custom, That smells of chippings and of broken fish, Is love to Captain Face, which to prevent, I'll never come but when her best stitched hat, Her Bowgle gown and best wrought smock is on, Then does she neither smell of bred, of meat, Or drappings of the tap, it shall be so. I'll have no Music? Then turn straight, Drawer run down the stares, And thank the Gods a gave me that great patience Not to strike you. Do not urge my patience, Awake not fury, new rakt up in embers, I give you leave to live. My patience yet is great, I say be gone, My tricks are dangerous. How? Lousy knave, Are we not English bred? My patience yet is great: Do you bandy troops, by Dis I will be Knight, Wear a blue coat on great Saint Georges day, And with my fellows driven you all from Pauls For this attempt. By Pluto, Gentlemen, To do you pleasure, and to make you sport, I'll do't. By Jove it's not for fear, But for a love I bear unto these tricks, That I perform it. Zounes I'll first be dam'nd, shall sport Be laughed at; by Dis by Pluto, and great Proserpine, My fatal blade once drawn, falls but with death, Yet if yowl let me go, I vow by Jove, No widow, maid, wife, punk, or Cockatrice, Shall make me haunt your goasts. I'll first be hanged and damned. Twe e brave, If some great Lady, through a window spied me, And straight should love me, say she should send, 5000 pound unto my Lodging, And crave my company: with that money, I would make three several cloaks, and line them With black, Crimson, and Tawny three pile velvet, I would eat at Chares Ordinary, and dice At Antony's : then would I keep my whore, In beaten velvet and, have two slaves to tend her. How? I tell thee Justice Tuchim, not all Thy Bailiffs, Sergeants busy Constables, Defesants, warrants, or thy Mittimuses, Shall save his throat from cutting if he presume, To woe the widow eclipped Tafata, She is my wife by oath. Therefore take heed, Let me not catch thee in the widows house, If I do, I'll pick thy head upon my sword, And piss in thy very visnomy, beware, beware. Come there no more, a Captains word, Flies not so fierce as does his fatal sword, Exit Puff. If you come there, Thy beard shall serve to stuff, those balls by which I get me heat at Tenice. Go to, I shall spurn And slash your petticoat. Dambe thee & thy Sergeants, thou Mercers Punk. Thus will I kick thee and thy Farthingales. Are not her Bulwarks Parapets, Trenches, Scarves, Counter-scarves, Fortifications, Curtains, Shadows, Mines, Countermines, Rampires, Forts, Ditches, Works, Waterworks, And is not her halfmoon mine, and do you bring A rescue goodman Knight Not Hercules gainst twenty. How, am I not thy spouse, didst thou not say, These arms should clip thy naked body fast, Betwixt two linen sheets, and be sole Lord Of all thy pewter work, thy word is passed, And know that man is powder, dust, and earth, That shall once dare to think thee for his wife. No Constable with all his Holberteeres, Dare once advance his head, or peep up stairs, If I cry but keep down: have I not lived, And ma ched on the sieged walls, In thunder, lightning, rain, and snow, And eake in shot of powdered balls, Whose costly marks are yet to show? What do you cast your whelps. What have I found you sir? have not I placed My Sakers, Culverings, Demi-culverings, My Cannons, Demi-cannons, Basilisks, Upon her breach, and do I not stand, Ready with my Pike to make my entry, And are you come to man her? What my case of Justices, What are you eaves-dropping or do you think, Your tawny coats with gresie facings here, Shall carry it? Sir Oliver Small-shanks, Know my name is Puff, Knight, thee have I sought, To fright thee from thy wits. Nor yet the Northern Pole, A fico for the Sun and Moon, let me live in a hold, So these two stars may shine. Bless thee widow and wife. I must speak with her. How players, what is there ere a Cuckold among them?