_Pin._ They are ill built; Pin-buttockt, like your dainty Barbaries, And weak i'th' pasterns; they'll endure no hardness.

_Mir._ There's nothing good, or handsom bred amongst us: Till we are travel'd, and live abroad, we are Coxcombs: Ye talk of _France_, a slight unseason'd Country, Abundance of gross food, which makes us Block-heads: We are fair set out indeed, and so are fore-horses: Men say we are great Courtiers, men abuse us: We are wise, and valiant too, _non credo, Seignior_: Our Women the best Linguists, they are Parrats; O' this side the _Alpes_ they are nothing but meer Drolleries: Ha, _Roma la Santa, Italy_ for my money, Their policies, their customs, their frugalities, Their courtesies so open, yet so reserved too, As when ye think y'are known best, ye are a stranger; The very pick-teeth speak more man than we do, And season of more salt.

Beaumont & Fletcher's Works (4 of 10) — Part 181

_Pin._ 'Tis a brave Country: Not pester'd with your stubborn precise Puppies, That turn all useful and allow'd contentments To scabs and scruples; hang 'em Capon-worshippers.

Beaumont & Fletcher's Works (4 of 10) — Part 181

_Bel._ I like that freedom well, and like their Women too, And would fain do as others do; but I am so bashful, So naturally an Ass: Look ye, I can look upon 'em, And very willingly I go to see 'em, (There's no man willinger) and I can kiss 'em, And make a shift--

Beaumont & Fletcher's Works (4 of 10) — Part 181

_Mir._ But if they chance to flout ye, Or say ye are too bold; fie, Sir, remember; I pray sit farther off;--

_Bel._ 'Tis true, I am humbled, I am gone, I confess ingenuously I am silenced, The spirit of Amber cannot force me answer.

_Bel._ I can be hang'd first; Yet where I fasten well I am a tyrant.

_Bel._ Yes, certainly, I dare fight; And fight with any man at any weapon, Would the other were no more; but a pox on't, When I was sometimes in my height of hope, And reasonable valiant that way, my heart harden'd, Some scornful jest or other chops between me And my desire: what would ye have me to do then, Gentlemen?

_Mir._ _Belvere_, you must be bolder: Travel three years, And bring home such a Baby to betray ye As bashfulness? a great fellow, and a Souldier?

_Bel._ You have the gift of impudence, be thankful; Every man has not the like talent: I will study And if it may be reveal'd to me.

_Mir._ Learn of me, And of _Pinac_: no doubt you'll find employment; Ladies will look for Courtship.