Friday, July the 31th, 2009

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A Wispe, A Wispe, Rippe, Rippe

“There is a Doctor and his Fart that haue kept a foule stinking stirre in Paules Churchyard ; I crie him mercy, I slaundered him, he is scarce a Doctor till he hath done his Acts ; this dodipoule, this didopper, this professed poetical braggart hath raild vpon me, without wit or art, in certaine foure penniworth of Letters and three farthing-worth of Sonnets ; nor do I mean to present him and Shakerley to the Queens foole-taker for coatch-horses : for two that draw more equallie in one Oratoriall yoke of vaine-glorie, there is not vnder heauen… why thou arrant butter whore, thou cotqueane & scrattop of scoldes, wilt thou neuer leaue afflicting a dead Carcasse, continually read the rethorick lecture of Ramme Allie? a wispe, a wispe, rippe, rippe, you kitchin-stuffe wrangler!”

Thomas Nashe (1567–1601), writing of the poet Gabriel Harvey in Strange Newes, of the Intercepting Certaine Letters (1593)