Sixe daies are done with endlesse hopes since I
had with expectance of thy honesty
thought of my thanks to be delivered free
which soe longe I have travaild for with thee
but thy neglect hath chaung'd the happier fate
and made thy birth abortive turne to hate
whose language like thy nature now must prove
and blame itt not you might have Taught itt love
I wonder howe you ever durst invay
In Satire. Epigram, or Libell-play
against the manners of the tyme, or men
in full examples of all mischeifes when
no ill thou couldst soe staske dwells not mee
and there the store house of your plottes wee see.
for thou that hast in thee soe many waies
of practizd mischief, hast begott thy bayes
in reading of thy selfe, ticklinge the age
stealinge all equal glory from the stage
that I confesse with like forme thou hast writt
of good and badd things not with equall witt
the reason is, or may be quickly showne
the goods translation butt the ills thyne owne
for though with tired pace & sweaty feete
I never went to Scotland nor did meete
thee att returne my selfe alone or with
my friends but soe far of a [sic] Hamersmith
yet I ofte unto your Jurnes glory
with patience heard you tell the teadious story
of all you in that trafficke suffered thoughe
I was as tyr'd as thou couldst bee to goe
Besides I have beene druncke with thee & then
satt still and heard the [sic] rayle at other men
repeat thy verses, and done all that might
make my Succession to thy hart be right
And t'other daie I gave thee stile & woordes
preferd thee in thy Choise before great Lordes
But thou hast proved nowe by this neglect
less worthy then that groome my disrespect
heere Charected unto the life for hee
deceiv'd no trust which murthered is by thee

from henceforth this repute dwell with the[e] then
the best of Poettes but the worst of men

(fol. 30r-v)