"If these giddy goers be forced to give a reason for their wheeling up and down the streets, their answer is, they know not else how to pass their time. And how tedious it is, for a man that accounts his hours, to be subject to these vacancies, and apply himself to lose a day with such time-passers; who neither come for business, nor out of true friendship, but only to spend the day; as if one had nothing else to do, but to supply their idle time!—
"After they have asked you how you do, and told some old or fabulous news, laughed twice or thrice in your face, and censured those they know you love not (when, peradventure, the next place they go to, is to them—where they will be as courteous to you); spoke a few words of fashions and alterations;—made legs and postures of the last edition; with three or four diminutive oaths and protestations of their service and observance; they then retire."
The diminutive oaths, mentioned at the close of this quotation, were, unfortunately, considered as ornaments of conversation, and adopted by both sexes, in order to give spirit and vivacity to their language; a shocking practice, which seems to have been rendered fashionable by the very reprehensible habit of the Queen, whose oaths were neither diminutive nor rare; for it is said, that she never spared an oath in public speech or private conversation when she thought it added energy to either. After this example in the highest classes, we need not be surprised when Stubbes tells us, speaking of the great body of the people, that, "if they speake but three or four words, yet they must be interlaced with a bloudie oath or two."
These abominable expletives appear to have formed no small share of the language of compliment, a species of simulation which was carried to an extraordinary height in the days of our poet: thus Marston, describing the finished gallant, says,—
———————— "Marke nothing but his clothes,
His new stampt complement, his cannon oathes;
Marke those."[160:A]
Decker, apostrophising the courtiers of his day, and playing upon a term of Guido's musical scale, exclaims,—"You courtiers, that do nothing but sing the gamut A-Re of complimental courtesy[161:A];" and Shakspeare, painting this
———— "sweet, sweet poison for the age's tooth."
represents the Bastard in his King John, thus addressing a travelled fop:—