1601, John Marston, What You Will, Nay, pre-thee, fut, feere not, he's no edge-toole; you may jest with him.
1606, William Shakespeare, , My father compounded with my mother under the dragon's tail, and my nativity was under Ursa Major; so that it follows, I am rough and lecherous. Fut, I should have been that I am, had the maidenliest star in th firmament twinkled on my bastardizing.
1611, George Chapman, May Day, S'fut, thou liest in thy throte, thou knewst me as well as my selfe.
