HIPPOLITO

I Marry Sir, the only rising up in Arms, is in the arms of a woman: peace (I say still) is your only Paradise, when every Adam may have his Christmas Eve: and you take me lying any more by the cold sides of a brazenface field-piece unless I have such a Down pillow under me, I'll give you leave to knock up both my golles in my Father's hall, and hang hats upon these tenpenny nails. I have been backed since and almost unbacked too. I am a new man Sister, and now cry a pox a that ho nor, that must have none but Barber-surgeons to wait vpon't, and a band of poor straggling rascals, that every twinkling of and eye, forfeit their legs and arms into the Lords hands Wenches by Mars his sweaty Buff Jerkin, (for now all my must smell a the Soldado) I have seen more men's head up and down Like footballs at a breakfast, after the hungry Cannons had picked them; than are Maidenheads in Venice: and more legs of men served in at a dinner, then ever I shall see legs of Capons in one platter while I live. Not so many as thou hast done with that villainous eye by a thousand. 'Sfoot if all the wit in this company have nothing to set it self about, but to run Division upon me, why then Eene burn off mine ears indeed, but my little Mermaids, Signi or Camillo does this, that I now might describe the Niniuiticall motion of the whole battle, and so tell what he has done: and come, shall I begin? But I can tell you one thing, I shall make your hair stand up and end at some things. Yes, yes, I have a trick to make us understand one and other and we fumble never so— The law at logs then. Agreed so that we go not out of the compass of those things that are fit for Lords. Idem knock as long as I thought good, but have my brains knocked out when I entered, if I were he. Will your French prisoner drink well? or else cut his throat. The pox he can, 'slight me thinks a French man should have a good courage to wine, for many of them be exceeding hight fiery whoresons, and resolute as Hector, and as valiant as Troilus; then come off and on bravely and lie by it, and sweat fort too, upon a good and a military advantage. Enough of this, come wenches shake your heals. Tricks: tricks? kerry merry buff; how now lad, in a trance? Nay sweet rogue, wh wouldst thou make his face a vizard, to have two loopholes only? when he comes to a good face, may he not do with his eyes what he will: 'sfoot if I were as he, Idem pull them out, and if I wist they would anger thee. Hercules stand between them. Your foot with a pox? I hope you're no Pope Sir, his lips shall kiss my Sisters soft lip: and thine, the tough lips of this: nay Sir, I do but show you that I have a tool; do you heat Saint Dennis, but that we both stand upon the nar row bridge of Honour, I should cut your throat now, for pure love you bear to my Sister, but that I know you would set out a throat. Saint Mark set his marks upon me then: stab? I'll have my shins broken, ere I'll scratch so much as the skin off, a the law of Arms: shall I make a Frenchman cry o, before the fallen of the Leaf? not I by the Cross of this, Dandy prat. I shall lay too heavy a cross upon thee then. But sirrah Camillo, wilt thou play the wise and venerable bearded Master Constable, and commit him indeed, because he would be meddling in thy Precinct and will not put off the cap of his Love to the brown-bill of thy desires? Well, thou hast given the Law of Arms a broken pate already, therefore if thou wilt needs turn Broker, and be a cutthroat too, do: for my partly, I'll go get a sweet ball, and wash my hands of it. Is't you Sir Pandarus, the broking Knight of Troy, are your two legs the pair of tressels, for the Frenchman to getvp upon my Sister? With her heals? Oh here's a sure pocket Dag, and my Sister shoots him off snipsnap at her pleasure. Sirrah Mephosto philes, did not you bring letters from my Sister to the Frenchman? Did not he follow your crack-ship, at a beck given? But were stayed thus. Not for this wager of my Sisters love, run; away Dandi partly, catch Truepenny, & hold him, thy self shall pass more cur rant. Nay Gods lid after him Camillo, reply not but away. For I know that the only way to win a wench, is not to woe her: the only way to have her fast, is to have her lose: the only way to triumph over her, is to make her fallen; and the way to make her fallen,— Are you so cunning Sir? Well Sir, you know the Gentlewoman that dwells in the amid of Saint Marks street. A pox on you; the flea-bitten faced Lady. Not as I do, I hope Sir. Well sir slip go presently to her, and from me deliver to her own white hands, Fontinels picture. She does, le keep my sisters eyes and his painted face a sunder; tell her beside, the Mask holds and this the night, & nine the hour; say we are all for her away. But not fit last: a banquet? and have these Suckets here? o I have a crew of Angels prisoners in my pocket, and none but a good bale of dice can fetch them out: Dice ho; come my little lecherous Baboon, by Saint Mark, you shall venture your twenty crowns. I swore first. Come. Let him go, I knew what hook would choke him, and therefore baited that for him to nibble upon: and old comb peckt rascal, that was beaten out a'th Cockpit, when I could not stand a hye-lone without I held by a thing, to come crow king among us: hang him lobster; come, the same oath that your Foreman took, take all, and Sing. Love is Like a Lamb, and Love is Like a Lion, Fly from Love, he fights; fight, then does he fly on: Love is all in fire, and yet is ever freezing, Love is much in winning, yet is more in leezing. Love is ever sick, and yet is never dying, Love is ever true, and yet is ever lying. Love does dote in liking, and is mad in loathing, Love indeed is any thing, yet indeed is nothing. 'Sfoot how now Done Dego; Sanguine cheeked? dost think their faces have been at Cutlers? out you roring-tawny faced rascal, t'were a good deed to beat my hyltes about's coxcomb, and then make him Sanguine cheeked too. Do, or I'll turn him into a flay, and make him skip un der some of your petticoats. Good draw the Curtains, put out Candles, and girls to bed. The Frenchman, Saint Dennis, let her carve him up: Stay, here's Camillo; now my fool in fashion, my sage Idiot, up with this brims, down with this devil (Melancho lie) are you decayed concupiscentious Inamorato? news, news, Imperia dotes on Fontinell. Marry this Sir; here's a Yellowhammer flew to me with thy water, and I cast it, and find, that his Mistress be king given to this new falling-sickness, will cure thee: the Frenchman you see has a soft Mermaladie heart, and shall no sooner feel Imperja's liquerish desire to lick at him, but straight hee'll stick the brooch of her longing in it: then Sir, may you sir, come upon my Sister sir, with a fresh charge Sir; Sa, sa, sa, sa, once giving back, and thrice coming forward, she yield and the town of Breast is taken. Boneioure Monsieur. Hark swaggerer, there's a little dapple-coloured rascal: ho a Bona Roba; her name's Imperia, a Gentlewoman by my faith of and ancient house, and has goodly rends, and comings in of her own, and this Ape would feign have thee chained to her in the holy state: Sirrah, she's fallen in love with thy picture, yes faith too her, woo her, and win her: leave my Sister, & thy ran some's paid; all's paid Gentlemen; bi'th Lord Imperia is as good a girl as any is in Venice. After him Frisco, enforce thy Mistress's passion, thou shalt have access to him, to bring him love-tokens: if they prevail not, yet thou shalt still be in presence, be't but to spite him: In honest Frisco. Come, wilt thou goelaugh, and lie down? now sure there be some rebels in thy belly, for thine eyes do nothing but watch and ward, tho'ast not slept these three nights. Here sweet Sister. 'Slight, she means her French garsoon. You will not leave my friend in this poor taking: You scurvy Tyt: 'sfoot, scurvy anything, Do you hear Susanna: you, punk, if I geld not your Muske-Cat; I'll doo't by Jesu; lets go Camillo. Rareroage! fine! Swounds hold. As for that light Hobbyhorse my Sister, whose foul name, I will raze out with my Poniard; by the honour of my Family (which her lust hath prophaned) I swear (and Gentlemen be in this, my sworn brother's) I swear that as all Venice does admire her beauty, so all the world shall be amazed at her punishment, follow therefore. And between both, my Sisters. At so, Saint Mark my Pistol, thus death flies. Punk you may laugh at this, Here's tricks, but mouth I'll stop you with a kiss. There be many of your Countrymen in Ireland Signi or, travail to them.