The traveller newly returned from foreign lands was a great butt for the
satirists. In Elizabethan times his bows and tremendous politeness, his
close-fitting black clothes from Venice, his French accent, his finicky
refinements, such as perfumes and pick-tooths, were highly offensive to
the plain Englishman. One was always sure of an appreciative audience if
he railed at the "disguised garments and desperate hats" of the
"affectate traveller" how; his attire spoke French or Italian, and his
gait cried "behold me!" how he spoke his own language with shame and
loathing.[100] "You shall see a dapper Jacke, that hath beene but over
at Deepe,[101] wring his face round about, as a man would stir up a
mustard-pot, and talke English through the teeth, like ... Monsieur
Mingo de Moustrap."[102] Nash was one of the best at describing some who
had lived in France for half-a-dozen years, "and when they came home,
they have hyd a little wéerish leane face under a broad French hat, kept
a terrible coyle with the dust in the stréete in their long cloaks of
gray paper, and spoke English strangely. Naught else have they profited
by their travell, save learnt to distinguish of the true Burdeaux Grape,
and know a cup of neate Gascoygne wine from wine of Orleance; yea, and
peradventure this also, to esteeme of the poxe as a pimple, to weare a
velvet patch on their face, and walke melancholy with their armes
folded."[103]

The Frenchified traveller came in for a good share of satire, but darker
things were said of the Italianate Englishman. He was an atheist--a
creature hitherto unknown in England--who boldly laughed to scorn both
Protestant and Papist. He mocked the Pope, railed on Luther, and liked
none, but only himself.[104] "I care not," he said, "what you talk to me
of God, so as I may have the prince and the laws of the realm on my