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  • Title: The Puritan (Folio 3, 1664)

  • Copyright Digital Renaissance Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Authors: Thomas Middleton, William Shakespeare
    Not Peer Reviewed

    The Puritan (Folio 3, 1664)

    Enter Sir Oliver Muck-hill, Sir Andrew Tipstaffe,
    and old Skirmish talking.
    Muck. O monstrous unheard of forgery.
    Tip. Knight, I never heard of such villany in our own
    Countrey, in my life.
    Muck. Why 'tis impossible. dare you maintain your
    Skir. Dare we? e'ne to their wezen pipes: we know
    all their plots, they cannot squander with us, they have
    knavishly abus'd us, made onely properties on's to ad[-}
    vance their selves upon our shoulders, but they shall rue
    2230their abuses, this morning they are to be married.
    Muck. 'Tis too true, yet if the Widow be not too
    much besotted on slights and forgeries, the revelation of
    their villanies will make 'em loathsome, and to that end,
    be it in private to you, I sent late last night to an ho-
    2235nourable personage, to whom I am much indebted in
    kindnesse, as he is to me, and therefore presume upon
    the payment of his tongue, and that he will lay out good
    words for me, and to speak truth, for such needfull occa-
    sions, I onely preserve him in bond, and sometimes he
    2240may doe me more good here in the City by a free word
    of his mouth, then if he had paid one half in hand, and
    took Doomesday for tother.
    Tip. Introth, sir, without soothing be it spoken, you
    have publisht much judgement in these few words.
    2245Muck. For you know, what such a man utters will
    be thought effectuall; and to weighty purpose, and there-
    fore into his mouth we'll put the approved theame of
    their forgeries.
    Skir. And I'le maintain it, Knight, if she'll be true.
    Enter a Servant.
    Muck. How now, fellow.
    Serv. May it please you, sir, my Lord is newly lighted
    from his Coach.
    Muck. Is my Lord come already? his honour's early:
    2255You see he loves me well; up before heaven,
    Trust me, I have found him night-capt at eleven:
    There's good hope yet: come, I'le relate all to him.