punk_--

As thou wilt do now and then: thank me, thy good master, that brought
thee to it.

WEN. Nay, he profits well; but the worst is, he will not swear yet.

SCAR. Do not belie me: if there be any good in me, that's the best.
Oaths are necessary for nothing; they pass out of a man's mouth, like
smoke through a chimney, that files[384] all the way it goes.

WEN. Why then I think tobacco to be a kind of swearing; for it furs our
nose pockily.

SCAR. But, come, let's drink ourselves into a stomach afore supper.

ILF. Agreed. I'll begin with a new health. Fill up.

_To them that make land fly,
By wines, whores, and a die:
To them that only thrives
By kissing others' wives:
To them that pay for clothes
With nothing but with oaths:
Care not from whom they get,
So they may be in debt.
This health, my hearts! [_Drinks_.
But who their tailors pay,
Borrow, and keep their day,
We'll hold him like this glass,
A brainless, empty ass,
And not a mate for us_.
Drink round, my hearts!

WEN. An excellent health.

_Enter_ DRAWER.

DRAW. Master Ilford, there's a couple of strangers beneath desires to
speak with you.

ILF. What beards have they? gentlemenlike-beards, or brokerlike-beards?

DRAW. I am not so well acquainted with the art of face-mending, sir: but
they would speak with you.

ILF. I'll go down to them.

WEN. Do; and we'll stay here and drink tobacco.[385]

SCAR. Thus like a fever that doth shake a man
From strength to weakness, I consume myself.
I know this company, their custom vile,
Hated, abhorr'd of good men, yet like a child
By reason's rule, instructed how to know
Evil from good, I to the worser go.
Why do you suffer this, you upper powers,
That I should surfeit in the sin of taste,
Have sense to feel my mischiefs, yet make waste
Of heaven and earth?
Myself will answer, what myself doth ask.
Who once doth cherish sin, begets his shame,
For vice being foster'd once, comes impudence,
Which makes men count sin custom, not offence:
When all like me their reputation blot,
Pursuing evil, while the good's forgot.

_Enter_ ILFORD, _led in by a couple of_ SERJEANTS,
_and_ GRIPE _the usurer_.

SER. Nay, never strive, we can hold you.

ILF. Ay, me, and the devil too,[386] and he fall into your clutches.
Let go your tugging; as I am a gentleman, I'll be your true