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About this text

  • Title: Englishmen For My Money (Quarto 1, 1616)
  • Editor: Natalie Aldred
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    Copyright Digital Renaissance Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: William Haughton
    Editor: Natalie Aldred
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Englishmen For My Money (Quarto 1, 1616)

    A Woman will haue her will.
    1525 Delio. I be deceu dis darke neight; here be no Wen she,
    I be no in de right pla she: I prey Mon sieur, wat be name
    dis Streete, and wi sh be de way to Cro she-friers?
    Heigh. Marry this is Fanchurch- streete,
    And the be st way to Crotched-friers, is to follow your nose
    1530 Delio. Uan she streete , how shaunce me come to Van she
    streete? vell mon sieur, me mu st alle to Croche-friers.
    Exit Delion.
    Walg. Farewell fortipence, goe seeke your Signor,
    I hope youle finde your selues two Dolts anone:
    1535Hu sh Ferdinand, I heare the la st come stamping hither.

    Enter Frisco.
    Frisc. Ha sirra, I haue left my fatte Dutchman, and runne
    my selfe almo st out of breath too: now to my young mis -
    tre s s es goe I, some body ca st an old shoe after me: but soft,
    1540how shall I doe to counterfeite the Dutchman, be cause
    I speake Engli sh so like a naturall; Tu sh, take you no
    thought for that, let me alone for Squintum squantum: soft,
    her's my Mai sters house,
    Heigh. Whose there.
    1545 Frisc. Whose there, why sir here is: Nay that's too good
    Engli sh ; Why here be de growtte Dutchman.
    Heigh. Then theres not onely a growte head, but an
    A s s e also.
    Frisc. What be yoo, yoo be an Engli sh Oxe to call a gen-
    1550tle moan A s s e.
    Haru. Harke Ned yonders good greeting.
    Frisc. But yoo, and yoo be Mai ster Mouse that dwell
    here, tell your matre s s a Laurentia datt her sweete harte
    Mai ster Vandall would speake with horde.
    1555 Heigh. Mai ster Mendall, gette you gon, lea st you get
    a broken Pate and so marre all: here's no entrance for mis -
    stres Laurentios sweete heart.
    Frisc. Gods sacaren watt is the luck now,
    Shall