Vulgar words in The Works of Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher - Volume 2 of 10: Introduction to the Elder Brother (Page 1)
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_Mir._ He is an Ass, a piece of Ginger-bread, gilt over to please foolish Girls puppets.
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_Mir._ Thou art an Ass then, a dull old tedious Ass; th' art ten times worse, and of less credit than Dunce _Hollingshead_ the Englishman, that writes of Shows and Sheriffs.
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_Eust._ Yes, would he were buried; I fear he'll make an Ass of me a younger.
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H'as frighted the old Justice into a Feaver; I hope he'll disinherit him too for an Ass; for though he be grave with years, he's a great Baby.
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Had he but ta'ne his leave in availing Language, or bought an Elegy of his condolement, that the world might have ta'ne notice, he had been an Ass, 't had been some favour.
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Whore, thou dar'st not.
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Nor will I rail nor curse, you slave, you whore, I will not meddle with you; but all the torments that e're fell on men, that fed on mischief, fall heavily on you all.
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No, no, Monsieur, let us be right Frenchmen, violent to charge; but when our follies are repell'd by reason, 'tis fit that we retreat, and ne'er come on more: Observe my learned _Charles_, he'll get thee a Nephew on _Angellina_ shall dispute in her belly, and suck the Nurse by Logick: and here's _Eustace_, he was an Ass, but now is grown an _Amadis_; nor shall he want a Wife, if all my Land, for a Joynture, can effect: Y'are a good Lord, and of a gentle nature, in your looks I see a kind consent, and it shews lovely: and do you hear, old Fool?
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C _omits_] I hope...an Ass.
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_Bri._ Whore thou dar'st not.
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_Bri._ Nor will I raile nor curse, You slave, you whore, I will not meddle with you, But all the torments that ere fell on men, That fed on mischiefe, fall heavily on you all.