Who? the _Frenshe_ monster,[48] _Neapolitan_ Seignor, the
man-makarel[49] and marchant of madens-fleshe that deales altogether
in flawed ware and crackt comodityes? the bawdy broker, I meanes,
where a man for his dollers may have choyse of diseases, and som tymes
the pox too, if hee will leeve beehind him a good pawne for it.
_Raphael_. How thou drummst.
_Clowne_. Marry qothe hee. So I may happen to bringe it awaye in my
nose. Well I smell some bawdy business or other in hand. They call this
place _Marcellis_ Roade, the cheiff haven towne in _France_, but hee
keepes a road[50] in his oune howse wherein have ridd and bin ridd more
leakinge vessayles, more panderly pinks,[51] pimps and punkes, more
rotten bottoms ballanst, more fly-boates[52] laden and unladen every
morninge and evenning tyde then weare able to fill the huge greate baye
of _Portingall_. Is this all, syr?
_Raphael_. Yes all, and heares the somme.
_Clowne_. A small somme of that is worthe all the busines that I am
sent about, for the all in all on't is I am afrayde that all will
proove woorthe nothinge.
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