Satiromastix – Epilogue

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Gentlemen, gallants, and you, my little swaggers that fight love:  my tough hearts of oak that stand to’t so valiantly, and are still within a yard of your Captain:  now the trumpets, that set men together by the ears, have left their tanrara-rag-boy, let’s part friends.  I recant, bear witness all you gentlefolds, that walk i’th’galleries, I recant the opinions which I held of courtiers, ladies, and citizens, when once, in an assembly of friars, I rail’d upon them, that heretical libertine Horace taught me so to mouth it.  Besides, ‘twas when stiff Tucca was a boy”  ‘twas not Tucca that rail’d and roar’d then, but the devil and his angels.  But now, king’s truce, the Captain summons a parley and delivers himself and his prating company into your hands, upon what composition  you will.  Are you pleas’d?  And I’ll dance here for your two pence a piece again, before I’ll lose your company.  I know nwo some be come hither with cheeks swoln as big as hisses, as if they had the tooth-ache. ‘Od’s foot, if I stood by them, I’d be so bold as entreat them to hiss in another place.  Are you advis’d what you do when you hiss?  You blow away Horace’s 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 verse into waste paper.  No, my poetasters 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 clappers,
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
God night.


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