Clenchpoop

[…] for if a Gentleman haue in hym any humble behauour, then Roysters do cal suche one by the name of a Loute, a Clynchpope, or one that knoweth no facions […]

What a clenchpoope drudge is this: I can forbeare him no more.

Not far of was a Loute / With neare a hansome rag, himselfe lesse handsome sole to snout, / Lesse wel-form'd, or more il-fac'st, & like Clenchpoope looke and lim,

"There was an unwelcome guest in our cellars last night, but the rotted clenchpoop is done in now."

"You could have any clenchpoop in these kitchens if you wanted. All you want's a fumble; it's not like you want him to marry you."