DILDOMAN

Fifteen and upwards if it please your Grace. It's yet enclosed if it Like your Grace. Newly Entailed, as there it's to be seen in black and white. I'th City, brightly, sprightly, bravely, o it's a Creature— Delicate, piercing eye, enchanting voice, lip read and moist, skin soft and white; she's amorous, delicious, inciferous tender, neat. New married, that's all the hold you can find in her conte, but so newly, the poesy of her wedding Ring is scarce warm with the heat of her finger; therefore my Lord, fasten this wagtail, as soon as you can lime your bush, for women are Venice-glasses, one knock spoils em. And then they'll hold no more then a Lawyers Conscience. I would have you first disguised go along with me, and buy some toy in her shop, and then if you Like Danae fallen into her lap Like Jove, a net of Goldsmiths work will pluck up more women at one draught, then a Fisherman does Sal mons at fifteen. A flatcap, pish; if he storm, give him a Court-loaf stop's mouth with a Monopoly. Stand on no ground good your Highness. About the bigness of this gentlewoman's will serve: Come pray take it, will three fetch they? What comes all to, before us? Prithee peace fellow, how d'ee Like her? Leave that to me, give me your purse. Son I tell her of the rich embroidered stuff at home for the tops of gloves, and to make me muffs, if it please the Gentlewoman to take her man along, she shall not only see them, but certain stones, which I will have set only in one pair, I can tell you, you may so deal with me, you shall gain more then you think of. Nay, nay, come you, Your man shall go along to note my House, To fetch your Husband, you shall dine with us. Come, come you shall. Come Mistress, on Son, nay, nay indeed you shall not, My Glove, one of my gloves lost in your shop. Low stools, pray fit, my man shall fetch the stuffs And after Dinner you shall have those stones: A cup of wine; what drink you! Love you bastard! I'll give you the best in Spain. Have you been married long? I think your wedding shoes have not been oft untied. Pretty Soul; No more! indeed You are the youngest Vine I ever saw planted, So full of hope for bearing; me thinks it's pity A Citizen should have so fair a Tree Grow in his Garden. Some children look most sweetly at their birth, That after prove hard favoured; and so do Husbands: Your honey Moons soonest wain and show sharp horns. I do not wish it should, Yet be not too much kept under, for when you would You shall not rise. I was once as you are, Young (and perhaps as fair) it was my Fate While Summer lasted and that beauty reared Her cullors in my cheeks, to serve at Court: The King of Spain that then was, eyed me oft: Liked me, and loved me, wooed me, at last wone me. Why? Nay, you must think, He plied me with fierce batteries and assaults: You are coy now, but (alas) how could you fight With a Kings frowns! your womanish appetite Were't never so dead and cold would soon take fire At honours, (all women would be lifted higher) Would you not stoop to take it, and thrust your hand Deep as a King's in Treasure, to have Lords Fear you, to-have life or death fly from your words The first night that I lay in's Princely arms, I seemed transformed, me thought Jove's own right hand. Had snatched me up and in his starry sphere. Placed me (with others of his Lemans there) Yet was he but the shadow I the sun. In a proud zodiac, I my Course did run. Mine eye beams the dials style; and had power. To rule his thoughts, as that Commands the hour. O you shall find upon a Princes pillow. Such golden dreams. Cry you mercy. You must. Before you lies your way Beaten out by me, if you can follow do. Thou puritan fool. The best now knows it. This is the King. No matter for her scolding, a woman's tongue Is Like the miraculous Bell in Aragon, which rings out without the help of man. I hope your Majesty, Dare swear I would played the Pilot cunningly. Fetching the wind about to make this Pinnace Strike Sail as you desired. I'll change my Copy. I will turn over a new leaf. Give over! how live then! no, I'll keep that still If Courtiers will not, I'm sure Citizens will. You know where to quench you. Pray forsooth draw it on, if it fit you it fits the party surely. Yes. Your man is come, and sent to fetch your Husband, Trust me you shall not hence, till you have filled This banqueting room with some sweet thing or other: Your Husband's wondrous kind to you. Well sir. That's she. Will you go farther son and see better. O you'd h'a shon At Court Like a full Constellation, Your Eyes are orbs of Stars.