 | More fooles yet |  |
An absolute Gallànt.
If you will see true vallour here displayd,Heare Poliphemus, and be not affraid:
Sir let me go, or by these hilts ile braine yee.
Shall a base patch with such apparance wrong me?
Ile kill the villaine, pray do not prolong me:
Call my Tobacco putryfied stuffe,
Tell me it stincks, say it is drosse, I snuffe.
Sirrha, what are you? why sir what would you,
I am a prentice, and will knocke you to:
O are you so, I cry you mercy then,
I am to fight with none but Gentlemen.
| More fooles yet | |