TUCCA

Why you bastards of nine whores, the Muses, why do you walk here in this gorgeous Gam le y of gallant inuen tions, with that whooreson poor lime & hair-rascal? why— Sworn, that Judas yonder that walks in Rug, will dub you Knights ath post, if you serve under his band of oaths, the copper fact rascal will for a good supper out swear twelve dozen of grand Juries. Dam thee, thou thin bearded Hermaphrodite, dam thee, I'll save my self for one I warrant thee, is this thy Tub Diogenes? Art thou there goats pizzel; no goda ercy Cain I am for no whiffs I, come hither sheep-skin-weauer S foot thou lookest as though th'adst begged out of a Jail: draw, I mean not thy face (for 'tis not worth drawing) but draw near: this way, march, follow your commander you scoundrel: So, thou must run of and errand for me Mepho stophiles. To hell, thou knowest the way, to hell my fire and brimstone, to hell; dost stare my Sar en -head at Newgate? dost gl ate? I'll march through thy gum S, for shoo ting jests at me. Out bench-whistler out, isle not take thy word for a dagger Pie: you browne-bread-mouth stinker, isle teach thee to turn me into Banks his horse, and to tell gentlemen I am a Juggler, and can show tricks. No you starved rascal, thou'lt bite off mine ears then, you must have three or four suits of names, when Like a low sie Pediculous vermin th'ast but one suit to thy back: you must be called Asper, and Criticus, and Horace, thy title's lon her a reading then the Style a the big Turks: Asper, Criticus, Quintus, Horatius, Flacu S. Bases? would the rogue were but ready for me. Not hands with great Hunks there, not hands, but I'll shake the gull-groper out of his tan'd skin. Thou wrongest here a good honest rascal Crispi nus, and a poor varlet Demetrius Fanninus (brethren in thine own trade of Poetry) thou sayest Crispinus Satin doublet is Reauel'd out here, and that this penurious sneaker is out at elbows, go two my good full mouthed bandog, I'll would thee friends with both. Sayest thou me so, old Coal come? doo't then; yet 'tis no matter neither, I'll have thee in league first with these two rowly powlies: they shall be thy Damons and thou their Pithy ass; Crispinus shall give thee and old cast Satin suit, and De metrius shall write thee a Scene or two, in one of thy strong garlic Comedies; and thou shalt take the gilded of consci ence for and swear 'tis thine own old lad, 'tis thine own: thou never yet fels't into the hands of satin, didst? I uva er-fate your Ningle. Marry muff, my man a gingerbread, wilt eat any small coal? Scorn it, dost scorn to be arrested at one of his old Suit S? I know thou wilt, I know th'art and honest low minded Pigmey, for I would seen thy shoulders leapt in a Players old cast Cloak, Like a Sly knave as thou art: and when thou ranst mad for the death of Horatio: thou borrowedst a gown of Rosci us the Stager, (that honest Nicodemus) and sentest it home low sie, didst not? Respond, didst not? What wut end? wut hang thy self now? has he not writ Finis yet Jack? what will he be fifteen weeks about this Cockatrices egg too? has he not cackeld yet? not laid yet? His wits are somewhat hard bound: the Punk his Muse has soar labour ere the whore be delivered: the poor saffron-cheek Sunburnt Gipsy wants Physic; give the hungry-face pudding-pye-eater ten Pills: ten shillings my fair Angelica, they' make his Muse as yare as a tum bler. Go by Jeronimo, go by; and here, drop the ten shillings into this Basin; do, drop, when Jack he shall call me his Moecen : beside, I'll dam up's Oven-mouth for rail king at's: So, I to right Jack? is't sterling? fallen off now to the vanguard of yonder four Stinkers, and ask allowed if we shall go? the Knight shall defray Jack, the Knight when it comes to Summa totalis, the Knight, the Knight.— Hold, hold up thy hand, I would seen the day thou didst not scorn to hold up thy golles: ther's a Soldiers Spur-royal, twelve pence: Stay, because I know thou canst not write without quick- ver; up again, this goll again, I give thee double press-money: Stay, because I know thou hast a noble head, isle divide my Crown, o royal Porrex, ther's a teston more; go, thou and thy Muse munch, worser e, munch; come my deer Mandrake, if Skeldring fallen not to decay, thou shalt flourish: farewell my sweet Amadis de Gaul, farewell. Come Jack. March fair then: Where's my most costly and sump vous Sho hose How? risen? no my noble Quintilian, kings are greater men then we Knights and Cauallie S, and therefore must eat more then lesser persons; Godamercy good Dives for these crumbs: how now? has not Friar Tuck dined yet? he falls so hard to that Oyster-pye yonder. Dost love her, my finest and first partly of the Mirror of Knighthood? hang her she looks Like a bottle of ale, when the cork flies out and the Ale fomes at mouth, she looks my good button-breech Like the sign of Capricorn, or Like Tiborne when it is covered with snow. I? sayest thou so Friskin? I have herath hip for some causes, I can found her, she ll come at my beck. Thou shalt doo't; that Lady ath Lake is thine Sir Tri stram, lend me thy chain, do, lend it, I'll make her take it as a token, I'll link her unto thee; and thou shalt wear her glove in thy Worshipful hat e Like to a leather broo h; Nay and thou mistrusts thy collar, be tied in't ill. No more, Ill shoot away yonder Prickshaft, and then belabour her, a worser fly you after yonder Cucko: dost here me my noble Gold n h:— How do thou my smug Belimperia? how dost thou? hands off my little bald Derrick, hands off: hark hither Sum sanna, beware a these two wicked Elders, shall I speak well or ll of thee? Why well said, my nimble Short-hose. Art angry father time? art angry because I took mother-Winter aside? I'll hold my life thou art struck with Cupid's Bird-bolt, my little prick shaft, art? dost love that mother Mumble-crust, dost thou? dost long for that whimwham? Have I found thee my learned Dunce, have I found thee? If I might would my will, thou shouldst not put thy spoon in to that bumble-broth (for indeed Idem taste her my self) no thou shouldst not; yet if her beauty blind thee, she's thine, I can doo't, thou heardst her say eene now, it should be at my choice. Not a silk point upon me, little Adam she shall be thy Eeue, for less then and Apple; but send, be wise, seud her some token, she's greedy, she shall take it, do, send, thou shalt stick in her (Prickeshaft) but fend. Go to, it shall be accepted, and it but silver, when that Flea-bitten Short-hose steps hence: vanish too, and let me alone with my Grannam in Gutter-Lan there, and this purse of gold do, let me alone. Now, now, mother Bunch how dost thou? what dost frown Queen Gwyniuer? dost wrinkle? what made these pair of Shittle-cocks here? what do they fumble for? I'll would none of these Kites flutering about thy carks, for thou shalt be my West Indies, and none but trim Tucca shall discover thee. What I can? thou knowest what I can discover, but I will not lay thee open to the world, No I will not my moldy decayed Chari g-crosse, I will not. No, 'tis thou makest me so, my Long Meg a Westmin ster, thou breedst a fcab, thou— My little devil a Dow-gate, I'll dam thee, (thou knowest my meaning) I'll dam thee up; my wide mouth at Bishopsgate. Why thou shalt, my sweet dame Annis a clear thou shalt, for I'll drown my self in thee; I, for thy love, I'll sink, I, for thee. Name one Madge-owlet, name one, I'll answer for none; my words shall be forth coming at all times, & shall answer for them selves; my nimble Cat-a-mountaine: they shall Sislie Bum-trincket, for I'll give thee none but Sugar Candy words, I will not Pusse: goody Tripewife, I will not. I'll name thee no more Mother Read cap upon pain of death, if thou wilt Grimalkin, Maggo a-pye I will not. A man a war? come thou knowest not what a wor shipfull focation 'tis to be a Captains wife: three or four pair of Knights? why dost hear Ioane-a-bedlam, I'll enter into bound to be dubbed by what day thou wilt when the next acti on is laid upon me, thou shalt be Ladified. Thou shalt little Miniver, thou shalt, I'll would this frock turned into a footcloth; and thou shalt be carted, drawn I mean, Coached, Coached, thou shalt ride Iigga-Iogge; a Hood shall flap up and down here, and this shipskin-cap shall be put off. Wut thou be proud little Lucifer? well, thou shalt go how thou wilt Maid-marian; come, buss thy little And thony now, now, my clean Cleopatria; so, so, go thy ways Alexis secrets, th'ast a breath as sweet as the Rose, that grows by the Bear-garden, as sweet as the proudest head a Garlic in England: come, wut march in, to the Gentle folks? I say Marry Ambree thou shalt march foremost, Because I'll mark how broad th'art in the heals. Why then come, we'll walk arm in arm, As though we were leading one another to Newgate. How now? I cannot stand to read supplications now Why true, shall not I get in my debts, nay and the rogue write no better I care not, farewell black Jack fare well. Sting me, do. Right, for here Ilye now, open, open to make my adversary come on; and then Sir, here am I in's bosom: nay and this be the worst, I shall hug the poor honest face-maker, I'll love the little Atheist, when he writes after my commendam cion, another whip? come yerk me. The whoreson cloven-foot devil in men apparel lies, There stood above forty dishes before me to day, That I never touched, because they were empty. Farewell stinckers, I smel thy meaning Screechowl, I do though I stop my nose: and Sirrah Poet, we'll have thee un trust for this; come, mother Mum-pudding, come. Save thee my little worshipful Harper; how do you my little cracknels? how do you? No Fye'st, my name's Hamlet revenge: thou hast been at Paris garden hast not? Death of Hercules, he could never play that partly well in's life, no Fulks you could not: thou callest Demetrius Journeyman Poet, but thou puttest up a Supplication to be a poor Journeyman Player, and hadst been still so, but that thou couldst not set a good face vpon't: thou hast forgotten how thou amblest (in leather pilch) by a play-wagon, in the high way, and tookest mad Ieronimoes partly, to get service a mong the Mimics: and when the Stagerites banished thee into the I'll of Dogs thou turnedst Bandog (villainous Guy) & ever since bitest, therefore I ask if th'ast been at Parris-gar den, because thou hast such a good mouth; thou ba tst well, read, lege, save thy self and read. Go not out Farding Candle, go not out, for trusty Damboys now the deed is done, I'll pledge this Epigram in wine, I'll yallow I , I, yes. So, now arise sprite ath Buttery; no Herring-bone I'll not pull thee out, but arise deer Echo rise, rise devil or I'll con ure thee up. Be not so tart my precious Metheglin, be not (my old whore a Babylon, fit fast.) Feed and be fat my fair Calipolis, stir not my beau teous wriggle-tails, I'll disease none of you, I'll take none of you up, but only this table-man, I must enter him into some filthy sink point, I must. Thou thinkest thou mayest be as saucy with me as my Buff Jerkin to fit upon me, dost? Adieu Sir Eglamour, adieu Lutestring, Curtin-rod, Goosequill; here, give that full-nosed Skinker, these rhymes; & hark, I'll tag my Codpiece point with thy legs, spout-pot I'll empty thee. Raw Artichoke I shall sauce thee. Did Apollo's Freeze gown watch man (boy, dost hear Tu kie-co kes tail have and eye behind, least the ene mieassault R reward) on proceed Father Adam; did that same tiranicall-tongu'd ragamuffin Horace, turn bald pates out so naked? Go too. Thy gold was accepted, it was, and she shall bring thee into her Paradise, she shall small Adam, she shall. Thus, go, cover a table with sweet meats, let all the Gentlewomen, and that same Pasquils-mad-cap (mother Be there) nibble, bid them bite: they will come to gobble down Plums; then take up that pair of Basket hilts, with my commission, I mean C spinus and Fannius; charge one of them to take up the Bucklers, against that hair-monger Ho raze, and have about or two, in defence of balde-pates: let them crack every crown that has hair on't: go, l to them lift up baldenes to the sky, and thou shalt see, 'twill turn Mi niuers heart quite against the hair. Nay, wh r, nimble Prickshaft; whir, away, I go up on life and death, away, fly Scanderbag fly. What, dost summon a parley my little Drumstick? 'tis too late; thou seest my read flag is hung out, I'll fill thy guts with thine own carrion carcase, and then eat them up instead of Sawsages. Wilt fight Turke-a-ten-pence? wilt fight then? Thou shalt not want fire, I'll would thee burned when thou wilt, my cold Cornelius: but come: Respicefunem; look, thou eest; open thy self my little Cutlers Shop, I chal lenge thee thou slender Gentleman n, at four sundry uvea pons. Well said Cockrell out-crowe him: art hardy noble Huon art Magnanimous? lick-trencher; look, search, least some lie in ambush; for this man at Arms, has paper in's bel lie, or some friend in a corner, or else he durst not be so crank. I smelled the foul-fisted Mortar-treader, come my most damnable fastidious rascal, I have a suit to both of you. A Gentleman or and honest Citizen, shall not Fit in your penny-bench Theaters, with his Squirrel by his side cracking nuts; nor Sneak into a Tavern with his Mermaid; but he shall be Satyred, and Epigram'd upon, and his humour must run vpo'th Stage you'll would Eum ry Gentleman in's hu mour, and Every Gentleman out on's humour: we that are heads of Legions and Bands, and fear none but these same shoulder-clappers, shall fear you, you Serpentine rascal. Art ot famous enough yet, my mad Horastratus, for killing a Player, but thou must eam e men alive? that friends? Sir ra wild-man, thy Patrons? thou Anthropophagite, thy Mecaenas S? Sayest thou so, my Palinodicall rimester? I know now that ast a number of these Quiddits bind men to'th peace: 'tis thy fashion to Ink in every men face; and then to craule into his bosom, and damn thy self to w p to off again: yet to g we out abroad, that he was glad to come to composition with thee: I know Monsieur Mac iauell 'tis one a thy rules; My long-heeled Troglodite, I could make thine ears burn now, by dropping into them, all those hight oaths, to which, thy self gau's volun rye re, (when ̄ thou wast the man in the Moon ) that thou wouldst never squib out any new Salt-p to r J against honest Tucca, nor those Maligo-tasters, his Poetasters; I could Cino phal S, but I will not, yet thou knowest thou hast broke those oaths in print, my excellent infernal. Nay I smell what breath is to come from thee, thy answer is, that there's no faith to be held with h Heritickes & Infidels, and therefore thou swearest any thing: but come lend m e thy hand, thou and I hence forth will be Alexander and Lodwicke, the G mini: sworn brother's thou shalt be Peritho S and Tucca Theseus; b to le leave thee that lurch, when thou makest thy voyage into hell: till then, him assure lie. Thou'lt shoo thy quills at me, when my terrible back's turned for all this, wilt not Porcupine? and bring me & my Heliconistes into thy Dialogues to make us talk madly, wut not Luncian? Nay and thou dost, horns of Lucifer, the Parce l-Po et shall Sue thy wrangling Muse, in the Court of Pernassus, and never leave hunting her, till she plead in Forma P uperi: but I hope th'a to more grace: come: friends, clap h ndes 'tis a bargain; am able Bubo, thy fist ust walk oo: so, I love thee, now I see th'art a little Hercules, and wilt fight; I'll S icke thee now in my company Like a sprig of Rosemary. I'll give thee ten thousand words and thou wilt, my little Thomas Thomasius. Right, true, guilty, I remember't now; for when I spoke a good word to the Widow for thee my young Samp son— For thee o Caesar, for thee I took up five pounds in gold, that lay in her lap, & aid Idem give it thee as a token from her: I did it but to smell out how she stood affected to thee, to feel her; I, and I know what she said, I know how I carried a way the gold. Quietly, in peace, without grumbling; made no noise, I know how I tempted her, in thy behalf; my little Trang do. Dost swear by daggers? nay then I'll put up more at thy hands then this. Come hither, my sour-faced Poet; fling away that beard-brush Bubo, casheere him and hark: Knight attend: So, that rawhead and bloodybones Sir Adam, has feed anon there brat (of those nine common wenches) to defend bald nes and to rail against hair: he'll have a ling at thee, my noble Cocksparrow. And at thy button-c p too; but come, I'll be your lea der you shall stand, hear all, & not be seen; cast off that blue coat away with that flawn, and follow, come: Th'art within a hair of it, my suum to Wit when r will though ? my delicate Poetical Fury, th'a to hit it to a hair. Dost hear my worshipful blockhead? Its the stinckingst dung-farmer—foh upon him. The best verse that ever I knew him hack out, was his white neck-verse: noble Ap Rees thou wouldst scorn to say thy lips to his commendations, and thou smeldst him out as I do, he calls thee the burning Knight of the Sa lamander. He shoots at thee too Adam Bell, and his arrows sticks here; he calls thee baldpate. And asks who shall carry the vinegar-bottle & then he rhymes too't, and says Prickshaft: nay Miniver he crom plesthy Cap too; and— Breadth of a groat? there's a teston, hide thy infir mities, my scurvy Lazaru , do, hide it, least it prove a scab in time: hang thee desperation, hang thee, thou knowest I cannot be sharp set against thee: look, feel (my light-vptailes all) feel my weapon. As blunt as the top of Poule's; 'tis not Like thy Aloe, Cicatrine tongue bitter: no 'tis no S abber but Like thy good l and glorious nose, blunt, blunt, blunt: dost roar bulchin? dost roar? th'ast a good room iuall voice to cry Lanthorn & Candlelight. A blanket, these cracked Venice glasses shall fill him out, they shall toss him, hold fa to wag tai es: so, come, in, take this bandy with the racket of patience, why when? dost flampe mad Tambe lain, do to tampe? thou thinkest th'ast Mortar under thy , do I'll tell thee why, because that a to en ed A lons of as salt and battery, against a company of honourable and wor shipfull Father's of the law: you wrangling ra call, law is one of the pillars ath land, and if thou be'st bound too't (as I hope thou shalt be) thou'lt proo e a skip-lack, thou'lt be whipped. I'll tell thee why, because thy sputtering chaps yelp, that Arrogance, and mpudence, and Ignorance, are the essen tiall parts of a Courtier. I'll tell thee why because thou ryest ptrooh at wor shipfull Citizens, and cal' them Flat-caps, Cuckolds, and bankrupts, and modest and virtuous wives punks & cock atrices. I'll tell thee why, because th'ast arraigned two Poets against all law and conscience; and not content with that, hast turned them amongst a company of horrible black Fry S. Thou art the true arraigned Poet, and shouldst have been hanged, but for one of these partakers, these charitable Copper-laced Christians that fetched thee out of Purgatory, (Players I mean) Theaterians pouch-mouth Stage-walkers; for this Poet, for this, thou must lie with these four wenches, in that blanket, for this— Good Pagans, well said, they have sowed up that broken seam-rent lie of thine, that Demetrius is out at El bows, and Cri pinus is fallen out with Satin here, they have; but b oate-herring dost hear? Is't not better be out at Elbows, then to be a bound slave, and to go all in Parchment as thou dost? My Perpetual pantaloon to we, but 'tis waxed over; th'art made out of Wax; thou must answer for this one day; thy Muse is a gler, and wears clothes upon best-be-trust: th'art great in some bodies books for this thou knowest where; thou wouldst be out at Elbows, and out at heals too, but that thou lay st about thee with a Bill for this, a Bill— I know thou worser worser , and therefore while we have Him ren here, speak my little dish-washers, a verdict Piss kitchens. I'll beat out thy brains, my whoreson handsome dwarf, but isle have it out of thee. Super Superexcellent Revellers go, proceed you Master's of Art in kissing these wenches, and in dances, bring you the quivering Bride to Court, in a Mask, come G um boll, thou shalt Mum with us; come, dog me skneakes bill. So, tug, tug, pull the mad Bull in by'th horns: So, bait one at that stake my place-mouth yelpers, and one at that stake Gurnets-head. Save thee, my most gracious King a Hearts save thee, all hats and caps are thine, and therefore I veil: for but to thee great Sultan Soliman, I scorn to be thus put off or to deliver up this sconce I would. I sweat for't, but Tawsoone, hold thy tongue Mon du, if thou'lt praise me, doo't behind my back: I am my weighty Sovereign one of thy grains, thy valiant vassal; ask not what I am, but read, turn over, unclasp thy Chro nicles: there thou shalt find Buff-jerkin; there read my points of war; I am one a thy Mandilian-Leaders; one that enters into thy royal bans for thee; Pantilius Tucca; one of thy Kingdoms chiefest quarrellers; one a thy most faith full—fie—fie—fie— No whirligig, one of his faithful fighters; thy drawer o royal Tamor Cham. With all my heart, shi, shi, shi shake that Bear-whelp when thou wut. Cur why? Speak Ningle, thy mouth's next, belch out, belch, why— His Poetical wreathe my dapper puncke-fetcher. Sirrah stincker, thou'rt but untrussed now, I owe thee a whipping still, and I'll pay it: I have laid rods in Piss and Vinegar for thee: It shall not be the Whipping Satire, nor the Whipping of the blind-bear, but of a counterfeit lugler, that steals the name of Horace. He does Oh King Cambyses, he does: thou hast no partly of Horace in thee but's name, and his damnable vices: thou hast such a terrible mouth, that thy beard's afraid to peep out; but, look here you staring Levia than, here's the sweet visage of Horace; look per boylde-face, look; Horace had a trim longbeard, and a reasonable good face for a Poet, (as faces go nowadays) Horace did not skrue and wriggle himself into great Men's famyliarity, (impudently) as thou do st: nor wear the Badge of Gentlemens company, as thou dost thy Taffety sleeves tacked too only with some points of pro fit: No, Horace had not his face punched full of Oylet-holes, Like the cover of a warming-pan: Horace loved Poets well, and gave Coxcombs to none but fools; but thou lovest none, neither Wisemen nor fools, but thy self: Horace was a goodly Corpulent Gentleman, and not so lean a hol low-cheekt Scrag as thou art: No, here's thee Copy of thy countenance, by this will I learn to make a number of villainous faces more, and to look scurvily vpon'th world, as thou dost. Tprooth—run Red-cap, beware horns there. Read, read; inventory of his oath. Upon him: Inpri is. Well, said, hast brought him tooth gallows all ready? To him old Tango. Thou shalt be my Ningle for this. There boy, again. I'll bussethy head Holofernes. Wut swear by Parnassus and lyetoo, Doctor Dod dipol? Let the Element alone, 'tis out a thy reach. Bear witness. Kings-truce, my noble Hearbe-a-grace; my Prince lie sweet-William, a boon—Stay first, Is't a match or no match, Lady Furnivall Is't? I'll Chain thee presently, and give thee ten pound and a purse: a boon my Liege:—dance o my delicate Rufus, at my wedding with this reverend Antiquary; is't done? ut thou? Go too, thou shalt now King Gorboduck, thou shalt, because I'll would thee damned, I'll would thee all in Satin: Asper, Criticus, Quintus, Horatius, Flaccus, Crispinus shall doo't, thou shalt doo't, heir apparent of Helicon, thou shalt doo't. Go too, let not thy tongue play so hard at hot-cockles; for, Gammer Gurton, I mean to be thy needle, I love thee, I love thee, because thy teeth stand Like the Arches under Lon done Bridge, for thou'lt not turn Satire & bite thy husband; No, come my little Cub, do not scorn me because I go in Stag, in Buff, here's velvet too; thou seest I am worth thus much in bareveluet. I know thou dost not, thou shat see that I could march with two or three hundred links before me, look here what? I could show gold too, if that would tempt thee, but I will not make my self a Goldsmiths stall I; I scorn to go chained my Lady ath Hospital, I do; yet I will and must be chained to thee. No, Godamercy Cadwalader, how do you Horace? Well said my Poetical huckster, now he's in thy hand ling rate him, do rate him well. By that live Eel? read, Lege Legito, read thou acke. My noble swaggerer, I will not fallen out with thee, I can not my mad Cumrade find in my heart to shed thy blood. How shalt would five, and five, and five and thou wantest money my Job. Marry himself, the ugly Po e Boniface, pardons him self, and to erefore my judgement is, that presently he be had from hence, to his place of execution, and there be Stabbed, Stabbed, Stabbed. I know thou art a Gentle, and I'll nibble at thee, thou shalt be my Cap-a-maintenance, & I'll carry my naked sword before thee, my reverend Lady Lettice-cap. Where's the Sering thou carriest about thee? Oh have I found thee my scouring-stick; what's my name Bubo? If he be not dead, look here; I would the Stab and pip pin for him: if I had killed him, I could would pleased the great fool with and Apple. But to bite every Motley-head vice by'th nose, you did it Ningle to play the Bugbear Satire, & make a Camp royal of fashion-mongers quake at your paper Bullets; you Nasty Tortois, you and your Itchy Poetry break out Like Christmas, but once a year, and then you keep a Revelling, & Araigning, & a Scratching of men's faces, as though you were Tiber the long-tailed Prince of Rats, do you? Nay your oohs, nor your Callin- es cannot serve your turn; your tongue you know is full of blisters with railing, your face full of pockey-holes and pimples, with your fie rye inventions: and therefore to preserve your head from aching, this Biggin is yours,—nay by Sesu you shall be a Poet, though not Lawrefyed, yet Nettlefyed, so: And says because thou Clipst the Kings Eng lish. Right little Twinckler, right: he says because thou speakest no better, thou canst not keep a good tongue in thy head. GEntlemen, Gallants, and you my little Swaggerers that fight low: my tough hearts of Oak that stand too't so valiantly, and are still within a yard of your Captain: Now the Trum pets (that set men together by the ears) have left their Tantara-rag-boy, let's partly friends. I recant, bear witness all you Gentlefolks (that walk i'th Galleries) I recant the opinions which I held of Courtiers, Ladies, & Citizens, when once (in and as sembly of Friars) Irailde upon them: that Heretical Liber ne Horace, ta ght me so to mouth it. Beside, it when stiff Tucca was a boy: it not Tucca that railde and roared then, but the Devil & his And gels: But now, Kings-truce, the Captain Summons a parlee, and delivers himself and his prasing compa nigh into your hands, upon what composition you will. Are you pleased? and I'll dance Friskin for joy, but if you be not, by 'th Lord I'll see you all—here for your two pence a piece again, before I'll lose your company. I know now some be come hither with cheeks swollen as big with hisses, as if they had the toothache: vds-foote, if I stood by them, Idem be so bold as—entreat them to hiss in another place. Are you advised what you do when you hiss? you blow away Horaces revenge: but if you set your hands and Seals to this, Horace will write against it, and you may have more sport: he shall not lose his labour, he shall not turn his blank verses into wast paper: No, my Poëtasters will not laugh at him, but will untruss him again, and again, and again. I'll tell you what you shall do, cast your little Tucca into a Bell: do, make a Bell of me, and be all you my clap pers, upon condition, we may have a lusty peal, this cold weather: I have but two legs left me, and they are both yours: Good night my two penny Tenants God night.