 | [A paire of spy-knaves] |  |
A Fantasticall Knaue.
Sirra, come hither, I must send you straightTo diuers places, about things of waight,
First to my Barber, at his Bason signe,
Bid him be heere to morrow about nine:
Next to my Taylor, and will him be heere
About eleuen, and his Bill Ile cleere:
My Shoomaker by twelue, haste bid him make
About the Russet Bootes that I bespake:
Stay, harke, I had forgot, at any hand
First to my Laundresse for a yellow Band,
And point the Feather-maker not to faile,
To plume my head with his best Estridge tayle.
Speake to the Sadler: no, let him alone,
Hee'le looke for money, I can spare him none.
Step to the Cutler for my fighting blade,
And know if that my riding sword be made,
Bid him trim vp my walking Rapier neat,
My dancing Rapiers pummell is too great:
Stay, stay, forbeare, some other time weele borrow,
I must take Physicke, and lye in to morrow,
The Doctor, I remember, will come hether,
And hee'le both purge me, and my purse together.
| [A paire of spy-knaves] | |