Jan Van Der Noot, A Theatre Wherein be Represented as Wel the Miseries & Calamities that Follow the Voluptuous Worldlings (London: Henry Bynneman, 1569):
This congregation of hipocrites, notwithstanding their copper faces, and carbuncled noses, through their vnmeasurable gluttony and dronkennesse, are yet in their soule pale, deadish, black and blew, as vnholsom & dead bodies. (20)
Théodore de Bèze, A Tragedie of Abrahams Sacrifice (1550), trans. Arthur Golding (London: Thomas Vautroullier, 1577):
[Satan in the habit of a Monke.] These lechours, drunkards, gluttons ouerfedd,
Whose noses shine faire tipt with brazell redd,
Which weare fine precious stones vppon their
Are my vpholders & my Cherubins. (8)
William Shakespeare, The Comedy of Errors (1592-94), in The Riverside Shakespeare, 2nd ed., ed. G. Blakemore Evans (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1997):
S. Ant. Where America, the Indies?
S. Dro. O, sir, upon her nose all o'er embellish’d with rubies, carbuncles, sapphires, declining their rich aspect to the hot breath of Spain, who sent whole armadoes of caracks to be ballast at her nose. (3.2.133-37)
John Lyly, Mother Bombie (London: Thomas Scarlet for Cuthbert Burby, 1594):
Omnes. Io Bacchus! To thy Table.
Thou call'st euery drunken
We already are stiffe Drinkers,
Then seale vs for thy iolly Skinckers.
Dro. Wine, O Wine!
O Iuyce Diuine!
How do'st thou the Nowle refine!
Ris. Plump thou mak'st mens Rubie faces,
And from Girles canst fetch embraces;
Half. By thee our Noses swell,
With sparkling Carbuncle. (2.1)
Anthony Copley, “Of Noses,” in Wits Fittes and Fancies (London: By Richard Johnes, 1595):
One seeing a great Drunkard with a huge nose all to beset pimples blue and red, said, it was the soule of the wine ascended into the region of his nose, and those pimples the Meteors that redounded thereof. (188)
William Shakespeare, 1 Henry IV (1596-97), in The Riverside Shakespeare, 2nd ed., ed. G. Blakemore Evans (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1997):
[Fal.] I make as good use of it as many a man doth of a Death's-head or a memento mori: I never see thy face but I think upon hell-fire and Dives that lived in purple; for there he is in his robes, burning, burning. If thou wert any way given to virtue, I would swear by thy face; my oath should be 'By this fire, that's God's angel:' but thou art altogether given over; and wert indeed, but for the light in thy face, the son of utter darkness. When thou rannest up Gadshill in the night to catch my horse, if I did not think thou hadst been an ignis fatuus or a ball of wildfire, there's no purchase in money. O, thou art a perpetual triumph, an everlasting bonfire-light! Thou hast saved me a thousand marks in links and torches, walking with thee in the night betwixt tavern and tavern: but the sack that thou hast drunk me would have bought me lights as good cheap at the dearest chandler's in Europe. I have maintained that salamander of yours with fire any time this two and thirty years. (3.3.29-48)
[Fal.] The shirt, to say the truth, [was] stolen from my host at Saint Alban's, or the red-nose innkeeper of Daventry. (4.2.45-47)
William Shakespeare, Henry V (1599), in The Riverside Shakespeare, 2nd ed., ed. G. Blakemore Evans (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1997):
[Flu.] The duke hath lost never a man, but one that is like to be executed for robbing a church, one Bardolph, if your majesty know the man: his face is all bubukles, and whelks, and knobs, and flames a’ fire: and his lips blows at his nose, and it is like a coal of fire, sometimes plue and sometimes red, but his nose is executed, and his fire’s out. (3.6.199-106)
William Shakespeare, Troilus and Cressida (1601-03), in The Riverside Shakespeare, 2nd ed., ed. G. Blakemore Evans (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1997):
Pan. She prais’d his complexion above Paris.
Cres. Why, Paris hath color enough.
Pan. So he has.
Cres. Then Troilus should have too much: if she prais’d him above, his complexion is higher than his. He having color enough, and the other higher, is too flaming a praise for a good complexion. I had as lieve Helen's golden tongue had commended Troilus for a copper nose. (1.2.98-106)
William Shakespeare, Macbeth (1606), in The Riverside Shakespeare, 2nd ed., ed. G. Blakemore Evans (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1997):
[Port.] Drink, sir, is a great provoker of three things.
Macd. What three things does drink especially provoke?
Port. Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and urine. (2.3.26-28)
Thomas Dekker, The Whore of Babylon (London: Nathaniel Butter, 1607):
This villanous drab is bawd, now I remember, to the Whore of Babylon; and weele neuer leaue her, till shee be carted: her face is full of those red pimples with drinking Aquauite, the common drinke of all bawds.
John Melton, Astrologaster, or, The Figure-Caster (London: Edward Blackmore, 1620):
But that which most grieves me, is, most of the varlets belonging to the citie colledges (I meane both the prodigious compters) have fierie red faces, that they cannot put a cup of Nippitato to their snowts, but with the extreme heat that doth glow from them, they make it cry hisse again, as if there were a gadd of burning Steele flung into the pot.
Philip Massinger, The Virgin Martir (London: Bernard Alsop for Thomas Jones, 1622):
Spun. Bacchus, the God of brew'd Wine and Sugar, grand Patron of rob pots, vpsie-freesie-tiplers, and super-naculam takers; this Bacchus, who is head warden of Vintners Hall, Ale-cunner, Maior of all Victualing houses, the sole liquid Benefactor to bawdy-houses, Lanze prezado to red Noses, and inuincible Adelantado ouer the Armado of pimpled, deepe scarletted, rubified, and carbuncled faces. (2.1)
James Howell, Paroimiographia Proverbs (London: J.G., 1659):
A red nose, and a great panch is no sign of repentance. (11)
Edward Bury, England's Bane, or, The Deadly Danger of Drunkenness (London: Thomas Parkhurst, 1677):
Consider also how much this Beastly sin of Drunkenness doth debauch, defile, deform the Body of man which should be the Temple of the Holy Ghost, Holy and Honourable: yea how it weakens it, fills it with diseases, distempers, and disorders, which often prove mortal, and set a Period to Life it self: the Body of man is in it self a famous Fabrick, a beautiful Pile, a sumptuous Structure, and bespeaks God for it's Author, and of all the visible Creation seems to be Gods Masterpiece; if we take it in pieces and consider it in its parts, you will find it an excellent piece of work, every piece being so useful and exact, nothing wanting, nothing redundant; the Heart, the Liver, the Brain, the Brain, the Muscles, Sinews, Nerves, Arteries, Veins, and Ligaments, and the several Members of the Body, yea the whole is a beautiful piece dropt out of the hands of a choice Workman, but this filthy vice doth so deform, deface, and defile it, that it looks not like that which God Created it to be, how doth it deform the Face? the Nose, the Eyes, the Cheeks are red and pimpled, the Face swoln like a Bladder, the Countenance disturbed, writhen, and deformed. How many beautiful comly Faces, both of Men and Women are thus spoiled? set on fire, and bedecked with Pearls and Rubies, Pimples, Pushes, and rough and rugged Skin? (6-7)
There are many men (as one saith) drink God out of their Hearts, Health out of their Bodies, Wit out of their Heads, and Money out of their Purses, the Ale out of the Barrels, Wives and Children out of doors, the Land out of quiet, and Plenty out of the Nation, and when all is done they have nothing to shew for it but some Buttery door Buttons, a red firey measled pimpled Nose and Face, a diseased, dropsical, gouty, deformed Body, and a Leprous Soul, and do procure such an insatiable thirst that can never be satisfied. (25)