“_Just._ I mean a child of the horn-thumb, a babe _of booty_, boy, a
cut purse.”
Does not this confirm, what the passage itself cannot but suggest, the
propriety of substituting “booty” for “beauty” in Falstaff’s speech,
_Henry IV._ part i. act i. sc. 2. “Let not us, &c.?”
It is not often that old Ben condescends to imitate a modern author; but
Master Dan. Knockhum Jordan, and his vapours are manifest reflexes of Nym
and Pistol.
_Ib._ sc. 5.—
“_Quarl._ She’ll make excellent geer for the coachmakers here in
Smithfield, to anoint wheels and axletrees with.”
Good! but yet it falls short of the speech of a Mr. Johnes, M.P., in the
Common Council, on the invasion intended by Buonaparte:—“Houses
plundered—then burnt;—sons conscribed—wives and daughters ravished,” &c.,
&c.—“But as for you, you luxurious Aldermen! with your fat will he grease
the wheels of his triumphant chariot!”
_Ib._ sc. 6.—
“_Cok._ Avoid in your satin doublet, Numps.”
This reminds me of Shakespeare’s “Aroint thee, witch!” I find in several
books of that age the words _aloigne_ and _eloigne_—that is,—“keep your
distance!” or “off with you!” Perhaps “aroint” was a corruption of
“aloigne” by the vulgar. The common etymology from _ronger_ to gnaw seems
unsatisfactory.