THen, when this bodie falls in funerall fire,

My name shall liue, and my best part aspire.

It shall goe so.

Young master, master OVID, doe you heare? gods a mee! a-

way with your songs, and sonnets; and on with your gowne and cappe,

quickly: here, here, your father will be a man of this roome presently.

Come, nay, nay, nay, nay, be briefe. These verses too, a poyson on 'hem,

I cannot abide 'hem, they make mee readie to cast, by the bankes of heli-

con. Nay looke, what a rascally vntoward thing this poetrie is; I could

teare 'hem now.

Giue me, how neere's my father?

Hart a'man: get a law-booke in your hand, I will not answere

you else. Why so: now there's some formalitie in you. By IOVE, and

three or foure of the gods more, I am right of mine olde masters humour

for that; this villanous poetrie will vndoe you, by the welkin.

What, hast thou buskins on, LVSCVS, that thou swear'st so

tragically, and high?

No, but I haue bootes on, sir, and so ha's your father too by

this time: for he call'd for 'hem, ere I came from the lodging.

Why? was he no readier?

O no; and there was the madde skeldring captaine, with the

veluet armes, readie to lay hold on him as hee comes downe: he that pres-

ses euerie man he meets, with an oath, to lend him money, and cries; (Thou

must doo't, old boy, as thou art a man, a man of worship.)

Who? PANTILIVS TVCCA?

I, hee: and I met little master LVPVS, the Tribune, going thi-

ther too.

Nay, and he be vnder their arrest, I may (with safetie inough)

reade ouer my elegie, before he come.

Gods a mee! What'll you doe? why, young master, you are

not castalian mad, lunatike, frantike, desperate? ha?

What ailest thou, LVSCVS?

God be with you, sir, I'le leaue you to your poeticall fancies,

and furies. I'le not be guiltie, I.

Be not, good ignorance: I'm glad th'art gone:

For thus alone, our eare shall better judge

The hastie errours of our morning muse.

YOur name shall liue indeed, sir; you say true: but how infa-

mously, how scorn'd and contemn'd in the eyes and eares of the

best and grauest Romanes, that you thinke not on: you neuer so

much as dreame of that. Are these the fruits of all my trauaile and expen-

ses? is this the scope and aime of thy studies? are these the hopefull cour-

ses, wherewith I haue so long flattered my expectation from thee? verses?

poetrie? OVID, whom I thought to see the pleader, become OVID the

play-maker?

No, sir.

Yes, sir. I heare of a tragœdie of yours comming foorth

for the common players there, call'd MEDEA. By my houshold-gods, if

I come to the acting of it, Ile adde one tragick part, more then is yet ex-

pected, to it: beleeue me when I promise it. What? shall I haue my sonne

a stager now? an enghle for players? a gull? a rooke? a shot-clogge? to

make suppers, and bee laught at? PVBLIVS, I will set thee on the funerall

pile, first.

Sir, I beseech you to haue patience.

Nay, this tis to haue your eares damm'd vp to good counsell.

I did augure all this to him afore-hand, without poring into an oxes panch

for the matter, and yet he would not be scrupulous.

How now, good man slaue? what, rowle powle? all riualls, ras-

call? why my Master of worship, do'st heare? Are these thy best proiects?

is this thy desseignes and thy discipline, to suffer knaues to bee competi-

tors with commanders and gentlemen? are wee paralells, rascall? are wee

paralells?

Sirrah, goe get my horses ready. You'll still be prating.

Doe, you perpetuall stinkard, doe, goe, talke to tapsters and

ostlers, you slaue, they are i' your element, goe: here bee the Emperours

captaines, you raggamuffin rascall; and not your camrades.

Indeed, MARCVS OVID, these players are an idle generation,

and doe much harme in a state, corrupt yong gentrie very much, I know

it: I haue not beene a Tribune thus long, and obseru'd nothing: besides,

they will rob vs, vs, that are magistrates, of our respect, bring vs vpon their

stages, and make vs ridiculous to the plebeians; they will play you, or me,

the wisest men they can come by still; me: only to bring vs in contempt

with the vulgar, and make vs cheape.

Th'art in the right, my venerable cropshin, they will indeede:

the tongue of the oracle neuer twang'd truer. Your courtier cannot kisse

his mistris slippers, in quiet, for 'hem, nor your white innocent gallant

pawne his reuelling sute, to make his punke a supper. An honest decayed

commander, cannot skelder, cheat, nor be seene in a bawdie house, but he

shall be straight in one of their wormewood comœdies. They are growne

licentious, the rogues; libertines, flat libertines. They forget they are i'

the statute, the rascals, they are blazond there, there they are trickt, they

and their pedigrees; they neede no other heralds, I wisse.

Me thinkes, if nothing else, yet this alone; the very rea-

ding of the publike edicts should fright thee from commerce with them;

and giue thee distaste enough of their actions. But this betrayes what a

student you are: this argues your proficiencie in the law.

You haue, sir, a poeme? and where is't? that's the law

you studie.

CORNELIVS GALLVS borrowed it to reade.

CORNELIVS GALLVS? There's another gallant, too,

hath drunke of the same poison: and TIBVLLVS, and PROPERTIVS.

But these are gentlemen of meanes, and reuennew now. Thou art a yon-

ger brother, and hast nothing, but thy bare exhibition: which I protest

shall bee bare indeed, if thou forsake not these vnprofitable by-courses,

and that timely too. Name me a profest poet, that his poetrie did euer af-

ford him so much as a competencie. I, your god of poets there (whom all

of you admire and reuerence so much) HOMER, he whose worme-eaten

statue must not bee spewd against, but with hallowed lips, and groueling

adoration, what was he? what was he?

Mary, I'le tell thee, old swaggrer; He was a poore, blind, ri-

ming rascall, that liu'd obscurely vp and downe in boothes, and tap-

houses, and scarce euer made a good meale in his sleepe, the whoorson

hungrie begger.

He saies well: Nay, I know this nettles you now, but an-

swere me; Is't not true? you'le tell me his name shall liue; and that (now

being dead) his workes haue eternis'd him, and made him diuine. But

could this diuinitie feed him, while he liu'd? could his name feast him?

Or purchase him a Senators reuenue? could it?

I, or giue him place in the common-wealth? worship, or

attendants? make him be carried in his litter?

Thou speakest sentences, old BIAS.

All this the law will doe, yong sir, if youle follow it.

If he be mine, hee shall follow and obserue, what I will apt

him too, or, I professe here openly, and vtterly to disclaime in him.

Sir, let me craue you will, forgoe these moodes;

I will be any thing, or studie any thing:

I'le proue the vnfashion'd body of the law

Pure elegance, and make her ruggedst straines

Runne smoothly, as PROPERTIVS elegies.

PROPERTIVS elegies? good!

Nay, you take him too quickly, MARCVS.

Why, he cannot speake, he cannot thinke out of poetrie,

he is bewitcht with it.

Come, doe not mis-prize him.

Mis-prize? I, mary, I would haue him vse some such

wordes now: They haue some touch, some taste of the law. Hee should

make himselfe a stile out of these, and let his PROPERTIVS elegies goe by.

Indeed, yong PVBLIVS, he that will now hit the marke, must

shoot thorough the law, we haue no other planet raignes, & in that spheare,

you may sit, and sing with angels. Why, the law makes a man happy, with-

out respecting any other merit: a simple scholer, or none at all may be a

lawyer.

He tells thee true, my noble Neophyte; my little Grammaticaster,

he do's: It shall neuer put thee to thy Mathematiques, Metaphysiques, Phi-

losophie, and I know not what suppos'd sufficiencies; If thou canst but

haue the patience to plod inough, talke, and make noise inough, be impu-

dent inough, and 'tis inough.

Three bookes will furnish you.

And the lesse arte, the better: Besides, when it shall be in the

power of thy cheu'rill conscience, to doe right, or wrong, at thy pleasure,

my pretty ALCIBIADES.

I, and to haue better men then himselfe, by many thousand de-

grees, to obserue him, and stand bare.

True, and he to carry himselfe proud, and stately, and haue the

law on his side for't, old boy.

Well, the day growes old, gentlemen, and I must leaue

you. PVBLIVS, if thou wilt hold my fauour, abandon these idle fruit-

lesse studies that so bewitch thee. Send IANVS home his back-face againe,

and looke only forward to the law: Intend that- I will allow thee, what

shall sute thee in the ranke of gentlemen, and maintaine thy societie with

the best: and vnder these conditions, I leaue thee. My blessings light vpon

thee, if thou respect them: if not, mine eyes may drop for thee, but thine

owne heart wil ake for it selfe; and so farewel. What, are my horses come?

Yes, sir, they are at the gate without.

That's well. ASINIVS LVPVS, a word. Captaine, I shall

take my leaue of you?

No, my little old boy, dispatch with COTHVRNVS there: I'le

attend thee, I.

To borrow some ten drachmes, I know his proiect.

Sir, you shall make me beholding to you. Now, captaine

TVCCA, what say you?

Why, what should I say? or what can I say, my flowre o' the

order? Should I say, thou art rich? or that thou art honorable? or wise?

or valiant? or learned? or liberall? Why, thou art all these, and thou

knowest it (my noble LVCVLLVS) thou knowest it: come, bee not asha-

med of thy vertues, old stumpe. Honour's a good brooch to weare in a

mans hat, at all times. Thou art the man of warres MECŒNAS, old boy.

Why shouldst not thou bee grac't then by them, as well as hee is by his

poets? How now, my carrier, what newes?

The boy has staied within for his cue, this halfe houre.

Come, doe not whisper to me, but speake it out: what? it is no

treason against the state, I hope, is't?

Yes, against the state of my masters purse.

Sir, AGRIPPA desires you to forbeare him till the next weeke:

his moyles are not yet come vp.

His moyles? now the bots, the spauin, and the glanders, and

some dozen diseases more, light on him, and his moyles. What ha' they

the yellowes, his moyles, that they come no faster? or are they foundred?

ha? his moyles ha' the staggers belike: ha' they?

O no, sir: then your tongue might be suspected for one of his

moyles.

Hee owes mee almost a talent, and hee thinks to beare it away

with his moyles, does hee? Sirrah, you, nut-cracker: goe your waies to

him againe, and tell him I must ha' money, I: I cannot eate stones and

turfes, say. What, will he clem me, and my followers? Aske him an he

will clem me: doe, goe. He would haue mee frie my ierkin, would hee?

Away, setter, away. Yet, stay, my little tumbler: this old boy shall supply

now. I will not trouble him, I cannot bee importunate, I: I cannot bee

impudent.

Alas, sir, no; you are the most maidenly blushing creature

vpon the earth.

Do'st thou heare, my little sixe and fiftie, or thereabouts?

Thou art not to learne the humours and tricks of that old bald cheater,

Time: thou hadst not this chaine for nothing. Men of worth haue their

chymæra's, as well as other creatures: and they doe see monsters, some-

times: they doe, they doe, braue boy.

Better cheape then he shall see you, I warrant him.

Thou must let me haue sixe, sixe, drachmes, I meane, old boy;

thou shalt doe it: I tell thee, old boy, thou shalt, and in priuate too, do'st

thou see? Goe, walke off: there, there. Sixe is the summe. Thy sonn's

a gallant sparke, and must not be put out of a sudden: come hither, CAL-

LIMACHVS. Thy father tells me thou art too poeticall, boy, thou must

not be so: thou must leaue them, yong nouice, thou must, they are a sort

of poore starued rascalls; that are euer wrapt vp in foule linnen; and can

boast of nothing but a leane visage, peering out of a seame-rent sute; the

very emblemes of beggerie. No, dost heare? turne Lawyer, Thou shalt

be my solicitor: Tis right, old boy, ist?

You were best tell it, Captaine.

No: fare thou well mine honest horse-man, and thou old be-

uer. Pray thee Romane, when thou commest to towne, see me at my lodg-

ing, visit me sometimes: thou shalt be welcome, old boy. Doe not balke

me good swaggerer. IOVE keepe thy chaine from pawning, goe thy

waies, if thou lack money, I'le lend thee some: I'le leaue thee to thy horse

now. Adieu.

Farewell, good Captaine.

Boy, you can haue but halfe a share now, boy.

'Tis a strange boldnesse, that accompanies this fellow:

Come.

I'le giue attendance on you, to your horse, sir, please you–

No: keepe your chamber, and fall to your studies; doe so:

the gods of Rome blesse thee.

Why, at——hart, I haue forgot: my passion so trans-

ports mee.

Ile saue your paines: it is at ALBIVS house, The iewellers,

where the faire LYCORIS lies.

O my TIBVLLVS,

MAster CRISPINVS, you are welcome: Pray', vse a stoole, sir.

Your cousin CYTHERIS will come downe presently. Wee are

so busie for the receiuing of these courtiers here, that I can scarce

be a minute with my selfe, for thinking of them: Pray you sit, sir, Pray you

sit, sir.

I am verie well, sir. Ne're trust me, but you are most delicately

seated here, full of sweet delight and blandishment! an excellent ayre, an

excellent ayre!

I, sir, 'tis a prettie ayre. These courtiers runne in my minde still;

I must looke out: for IVPITERS sake, sit, sir. Or please you walke into the

garden? There's a garden on the back-side.

I am most strenuously well, I thanke you, sir.

Much good doe you, sir.

Come, bring those perfumes forward a little, and strew some

roses, and violets here; Fye, here bee roomes fauour the most pittifully

ranke that euer I felt: I crie the gods mercie, my husband's in the winde

of vs.

Why, this is good, excellent, excellent: well said, my sweet

CHLOE. Trimme vp your house most obsequiously.

For VVLCANVS sake, breathe somewhere else: in troth you

ouercome our perfumes exceedingly, you are too predominant.

Heare but my opinion, sweet wife.

A pinne for your pinnion. In sinceritie, if you be thus ful-

some to me in euerie thing, I'le bee diuorc't; Gods my bodie? you know

what you were, before I married you; I was a gentlewoman borne, I; I

lost all my friends to be a citizens wife; because I heard indeed, they kept

their wiues as fine as ladies; and that wee might rule our husbands, like

ladies; and doe what wee listed: doe you thinke I would haue married

you, else?

I acknowledge, sweet wife, she speakes the best of any woman

in Italy, and mooues as mightily: which makes me, I had rather she should

make bumpes on my head, as big as my two fingers, then I would offend

her. But sweet wife——

Yet againe? I'st not grace inough for you, that I call you

husband, and you call me wife: but you must still bee poking mee, against

my will, to things?

But you know, wife; here are the greatest ladies, and gallan-

test gentlemen of ROME, to bee entertain'd in our house now: and I

would faine aduise thee, to entertaine them in the best sort, yfaith wife.

In sinceritie, did you euer heare a man talke so idlely? You

would seeme to be master? You would haue your spoke in my cart? you

would aduise me to entertaine ladies, and gentlemen? because you can

marshall your pack-needles, horse-combes, hobby-horses, and wall-can-

dlestickes in your ware-house better then I; therefore you can tell how to

enter taine ladies, and gentle-folkes better then I?

O my sweet wife, vpbraid me not with that: “Gaine sauours

sweetly from any thing; He that respects to get, must relish all commo-

dities alike; and admit no difference betwixt oade, and frankincense; or

the most precious balsamum, and a tar-barrell.

Mary fough: You sell snuffers too, if you be remembred, but

I pray you let mee buy them out of your hand; for I tell you true, I take

it highly in snuffe, to learne how to entertaine gentlefolkes, of you, at

these yeeres, I faith. Alas man; there was not a gentleman came to your

house i' your tother wiues time, I hope? nor a ladie? nor musique? nor

masques? Nor you, nor your house were so much as spoken of, before I

disbast my selfe, from my hood and my fartingall, to these bumrowles, and

your whale-bone-bodies.

Looke here, my sweet wife; I am mum, my deare mummia,

my balsamum, my spermacete, and my verie citie of——shee has the

most best, true, fæminine wit in ROME!

I haue heard so, sir; and doe most vehemently desire to parti-

cipate the knowledge of her faire features.

Ah, peace; you shall heare more anon: bee not seene yet, I

pray you; not yet: Obserue.

'Sbodie, giue husbands the head a little more, and they'll bee

nothing but head shortly; whats he there?

I know not forsooth.

Who would you speake with, sir?

I would speake with my cousin CYTHERIS.

Hee is one forsooth would speake with his cousin CY-

THERIS.

Is she your cousin, sir?

Yes in truth, forsooth, for fault of a better.

Shee is a gentlewoman?

Or else she should not be my cousin, I assure you.

Are you a gentleman borne?

That I am, ladie; you shall see mine armes, if't please you.

No, your legges doe sufficiently shew you are a gentleman

borne, sir: for a man borne vpon little legges, is alwayes a gentleman

borne.

Yet, I pray you, vouchsafe the sight of my armes, Mistresse;

for I beare them about me, to haue 'hem seene: my name is CRISPINVS,

or CRI-SPINAS indeed; which is well exprest in my armes, (a Face

crying in chiefe; and beneath it a blouddie Toe, betweene three Thornes

pungent.)

Then you are welcome, sir; now you are a gentleman borne,

I can find in my heart to welcome you: for I am a gentlewoman borne

too; and will beare my head high inough, though 'twere my fortune to

marrie a trades-man.

No doubt of that, sweet feature, your carriage shewes it in a-

ny mans eye, that is carried vpon you with iudgement.

Deare wife, be not angry.

God's my passion!

Heare me but one thing; let not your maydes set cushions in

the parlor windowes; nor in the dyning-chamber windowes; nor vpon

stooles, in eyther of them, in any case; for 'tis tauerne-like; but lay them

one vpon another, in some out-roome, or corner of the dyning-chamber.

Goe, goe, meddle with your bed-chamber onely, or rather

with your bed in your chamber, onely; or rather with your wife in your

bed onely; or on my faith, I'le not be pleas'd with you onely.

Looke here, my deare wife, entertaine that gentleman kindly,

I pre' thee;——mum.

Goe, I need your instructions indeede; anger mee no more,

I aduise you. Citi-sin, quoth'a! she's a wise gentlewoman yfaith, will mar-

rie her selfe to the sinne of the citie.

But this time, and no more (by heauen) wife: hang no pi-

ctures in the hall, nor in the dyning-chamber, in any case, but in the gallerie

onely, for 'tis not courtly else, o' my word, wife.

'Sprecious, neuer haue done!

Wife.——

Doe I not beare a reasonable corrigible hand ouer him, CRI-

SPINVS?

By this hand, ladie, you hold a most sweet hand ouer him.

And then for the great gilt andyrons?——

Againe! would the andyrons were in your great guttes,

for mee.

I doe vanish, wife.

How shall I doe, Master CRISPINVS? here will bee all the

brauest ladies in court presently, to see your cousin CYTHERIS: ô the

gods! how might I behaue my selfe now, as to entertayne them most

courtly?

Mary, ladie, if you will entertaine them most courtly, you

must doe thus: as soone as euer your maide, or your man brings you word

they are come; you must say (A poxe on 'hem, what doe they here.) And

yet when they come, speake them as faire, and giue them the kindest wel-

come in wordes, that can be.

Is that the fashion of courtiers, CRISPINVS?

I assure you, it is, ladie, I haue obseru'd it.

For your poxe, sir, it is easily hit on; but, 'tis not so easily to

speake faire after, me thinkes?

O wife, the coaches are come, on my word, a number of

coaches, and courtiers.

A poxe on them: what doe they here?

How now wife! wouldst thou not haue 'hem come?

Come? come, you are a foole, you: He knowes not the trick

on't. Call CYTHERIS, I pray you: and good master CRISPINVS, you

can obserue, you say; let me intreat you for all the ladies behauiours, ie-

wels, iests, and attires, that you marking as well as I, we may put both our

markes together, when they are gone, and conferre of them.

I warrant you, sweet ladie; let mee alone to obserue, till I

turne my selfe to nothing but obseruation.

Good morrow cousin CYTHERIS.

Welcome kind cousin. What? are they come?

I, your friend CORNELIVS GALLVS, OVID, TIBVLLVS,

PROPERTIVS, with IVLIA the Emperors daughter, and the ladie PLAV-

TIA, are lighted at the dore; and with them HERMOGENES TIGEL-

LIVS, the excellent musician.

Come, let vs goe meet them, CHLOE.

Obserue, CRISPINVS.

At a haires breadth, ladie, I warrant you.

HEalth to the louely CHLOE: you must pardon me, Mistris, that

I preferre this faire gentlewoman.

I pardon, and praise you for it, sir; and I beseech your

Excellence, receiue her beauties into your knowledge and fauour.

CYTHERIS, shee hath fauour, and behauiour, that commands

as much of me: and sweet CHLOE, know I doe exceedingly loue you, and

that I will approue in any grace my father the Emperour may shew you.

Is this your husband?

For fault of a better, if it please your highnesse.

Gods my life! how hee shames mee!

Not a whit, CHLOE, they all thinke you politike, and wittie;

wise women choose not husbands for the eye, merit, or birth, but wealth,

and soueraigntie.

Sir, we all come to gratulate, for the good report of you.

And would be glad to deserue your loue, sir.

My wife will answere you all, gentlemen; I'le come to you a-

gaine presently.

You haue chosen you a most faire companion here, CYTHE-

RIS, and a very faire house.

To both which, you and all my friends, are very welcome,

PLAVTIA.

With all my heart, I assure your ladiship.

Thankes, sweet Mistris CHLOE.

You must needes come to court, ladie, yfaith, and there bee

sure your welcome shall be as great to vs.

Shee will well deserue it, Madame. I see, euen in her lookes,

gentrie, and generall worthinesse.

I haue not seene a more certaine character of an excellent

disposition.

Wife.

O, they doe so commend me here, the courtiers! what's the

matter now?

For the banquet, sweet wife.

Yes; and I must needs come to court, and bee welcome, the

Princesse sayes.

OVID, and TIBVLLVS, you may bee bold to welcome your

Mistresses here.

We find it so, sir.

And thanke CORNELIVS GALLVS.

Nay, my sweet SEXTVS, in faith thou art not sociable.

Me thinkes I loue him, that he loues so truely.

This is the perfect'st loue, liues after death.

Such is the constant ground of vertue still.

It puts on an inseparable face.

Haue you markt euery thing, CRISPINVS?

Euery thing, I warrant you.

What gentlemen are these? doe you know them?

I, they are poets, lady.

Poets? they did not talke of me since I went, did they?

O yes, and extold your perfections to the heauens.

Now in sinceritie, they be the finest kind of men, that euer I

knew: Poets? Could not one get the Emperour to make my husband a

Poet, thinke you?

No, ladie, 'tis loue, and beautie make Poets: and since you like

Poets so well, your loue, and beauties shall make me a Poet.

What shall they? and such a one as these?

I, and a better then these: I would be sorry else.

And shall your lookes change? and your haire change? and

all, like these?

Why, a man may be a Poet, and yet not change his haire, lady.

Well, wee shall see your cunning: yet if you can change your

haire, I pray, doe.

Ladies, and lordings, there's a slight banquet staies within for

you, please you draw neere, and accost it.

We thanke you, good ALBIVS: but when shall wee see those

excellent iewels you are commended to haue?

At your ladiships seruice. I got that speech by seeing a play

last day, and it did me some grace now: I see, 'tis good to collect some-

times; I'le frequent these plaies more then I haue done, now I come to be

familiar with courtiers.

Why, how now, HERMOGENES? what ailest thou trow?

A little melancholy, let me alone, pray thee.

Melancholy! how so?

With riding: a plague on all coaches for me.

Is that hard-fauour'd gentleman a poet too; CYTHERIS?

No; this is HERMOGENES, as humorous as a poet though:

he is a Musician.

A Musician? then he can sing.

That he can excellently; did you neuer heare him?

O no: will he be intreated, thinke you?

I know not. Friend, Mistresse CHLOE would faine heare

HERMOGENES sing: are you interested in him?

No doubt, his owne humanitie will command him so farre, to

the satisfaction of so faire a beautie; but rather then faile, weele all bee

suiters to him.

'Cannot sing.

Pray thee, HERMOGENES.

'Cannot sing.

For honour of this gentlewoman, to whose house, I know

thou maist be euer welcome.

That he shall in truth, sir, if he can sing.

What's that?

This gentlewoman is wooing HERMOGENES for a song.

A song? come, he shall not denie her. HERMOGENES?

'Cannot sing.

No, the ladies must doe it, hee staies but to haue their thankes

acknowledg'd as a debt to his cunning.

That shall not want: our selfe will be the first shall promise to

pay him more then thankes, vpon a fauour so worthily vouchsaf't.

Thanke you, Madame, but 'will not sing.

Tut, the onely way to winne him, is to abstaine from intrea-

ting him.

Doe you loue singing, ladie?

O, passingly.

Intreat the ladies, to intreat me to sing then, I beseech you.

I beseech your grace, intreat this gentleman to sing.

That we will CHLOE; can he sing excellently?

I thinke so, Madame: for he intreated me, to intreat you, to

intreat him to sing.

Heauen, and earth! would you tell that?

Good sir, let's intreat you to vse your voice.

Alas, Madame, I cannot in truth.

The gentleman is modest: I warrant you, he sings excellently.

HERMOGENES, cleere your throat: I see by him, here's a gen-

tleman will worthily challenge you.

Not I, sir, I'le challenge no man.

That's your modestie, sir: but wee, out of an assurance of

your excellencie, challenge him in your behalfe.

I thanke you, gentlemen, I'le doe my best.

Let that best be good, sir, you were best.

O, this contention is excellent. What is't you sing, sir?

If I freely may discouer, &c. Sir, I'le sing that.

One of your owne compositions, HERMOGENES.

He offers you vantage enough.

Nay truely, gentlemen, I'le challenge no man—: I can

sing but one staffe of the dittie neither.

The better: HERMOGENES himselfe will bee intreated to

sing the other.

Beleeue me, sir, you sing most excellently.

If there were a praise aboue excellence, the gentleman highly

deserues it.

Sir, all this doth not yet make mee enuie you: for I know I

sing better then you.

Attend HERMOGENES, now.

Nay, HERMOGENES, your merit hath long since beene both

knowne, and admir'd of vs.

You shall heare me sing another: now will I begin.

We shall doe this gentlemans banquet too much wrong, that

staies for vs, ladies.

'Tis true: and well thought on, CORNELIVS GALLVS.

Why 'tis but a short aire, 'twill be done presently, pray' stay;

strike musique.

No, good HERMOGENES: wee'll end this difference within.

'Tis the common disease of all your musicians, hat they

know no meane, to be intreated, either to begin, or end.

Please you lead the way, gentles?

Thankes, good ALBIVS.

O, what a charme of thankes was here put vpon me! O IOVE,

what a setting forth it is to a man, to haue many courtiers come to his

house! Sweetly was it said of a good olde house-keeper; I had rather want

meate, then want ghests: specially, if they be courtly ghests. For, neuer trust

me, if one of their good legges made in a house, be not worth all the good

cheere, a man can make them. Hee that would haue fine ghests, let him

haue a fine wife; he that would haue a fine wife, let him come to me.

By your kind leaue, Master ALBIVS.

What, you are not gone, Master CRISPINVS?

Yes faith, I haue a desseigne drawes me hence: pray' sir, fashion

me an excuse to the ladies.

Will you not stay? and see the iewels, sir? I pay you stay.

Not for a million, sir, now; Let it suffice, I must relinquish;

and so in a word, please you to expiate this complement.

Mum.

Ile presently goe and enghle some broker, for a Poets gowne,

and bespeake a garland: and then ieweller, looke to your best iewell

yfaith.

HMh? yes; I will begin an ode so: and it shall be to MECŒNAS.

'Slid, yonder's HORACE! they say hee's an excel-

lentPoet: MECŒNAS loues him. Ile fall into his acquaintance, if

I can; I thinke he be composing, as he goes i'the street! ha? 't is a good hu-

mour, and he be: Ile compose too.

Sweet HORACE, MINERVA, and the Muses stand auspicious

to thy desseignes. How far'st thou, sweete man? frolicke? rich? gal-

lant? ha?

Not greatly gallant, sir, like my fortunes; well.

I'm bold to take my leaue, sir, you'ld naught else, sir, would you?

Troth, no, but I could wish thou did'st know vs, HORACE,

we are a scholer, I assure thee.

A scholer, sir? I shall bee couetous of your faire knowledge.

Gramercie, good HORACE. Nay, we are new turn'd Poet too,

which is more; and a Satyrist too, which is more then that: I write iust in

thy veine, I. I am for your odes or your sermons, or any thing indeed; wee

are a gentleman besides: our name is RVFVS LABERIVS CRISPINVS,

we are a prettie stoick too.

To the proportion of your beard, I thinke it, sir.

By PHŒBVS, here's a most neate fine street, is't not? I protest

to thee, I am enamour'd of this street now, more then of halfe the streets

of Rome, againe; 'tis so polite, and terse! There's the front of a building

now. I studie architecture too: if euer I should build, I'de haue a house

iust of that prospectiue.

Doubtlesse, this gallants tongue has a good turne, when hee

sleepes.

I doe make verses, when I come in such a street as this: O your

city-ladies, you shall ha'hem sit in euery shop like the Muses—offring

you the castalian dewes, and the thespian liquors, to as many as haue but

the sweet grace and audacitie to—sip of their lips. Did you neuer

heare any of my verses?

No, sir (but I am in some feare, I must, now.)

I'le tell thee some (if I can but recouer 'hem) I compos'd e'en

now of a dressing, I saw a iewellers wife weare, who indeede was a iewell

her selfe: I preferre that kind of tire now, what's thy opinion, HORACE?

With your siluer bodkin, it does well, sir.

I cannot tell, but it stirres me more then all your court-curles,

or your spangles, or your tricks: I affect not these high gable-ends, these

tuscane-tops, nor your coronets, nor your arches, nor your pyramid's;

giue me a fine sweet——little delicate dressing, with a bodkin, as you

say: and a mushrome, for all your other ornatures.

Is't not possible to make an escape from him?

I haue remitted my verses, all this while, I thinke I ha' for-

got 'hem.

Here's he, could wish you had else.

Pray IOVE, I can intreat 'hem of my memorie.

You put your memorie to too much trouble, sir.

No, sweet HORACE, we must not ha' thee thinke so.

I crie you mercy; then, they are my eares

That must be tortur'd: well, you must haue patience, eares.

Pray thee, HORACE, obserue.

Yes, sir: your sattin sleeue begins to fret at the rug that is vn-

derneath it, I doe obserue: And your ample veluet bases are not without

euident staines of a hot disposition, naturally.

O—I'le die them into another colour, at pleasure: how many

yards of veluet dost thou thinke they containe?

Hart! I haue put him now in a fresh way

To vexe me more: Faith, sir, your mercers booke

Will tell you with more patience, then I can;

(For I am crost, and so's not that, I thinke.)

S'light, these verses haue lost me againe: I shall not inuite 'hem

to mind, now.

Nay, gentle HORACE, stay: I haue it, now.

Yes, sir. APOLLO, HERMES, IVPITER, looke down vpon me.

white, is there vsurpt for her brow; her forehead: and then sleeke, as the

paralell to smooth, that went before. A kind of Paranomasie, or Agnomina-

tion: doe you conceiue, sir?

Excellent. Troth, sir, I must be abrupt, and leaue you.

Why, what haste hast thou? pray thee, stay a little: thou shalt

not goe yet, by PHŒBVS.

I shall not? what remedie? Fie, how I sweat with suffering!

And then——

Pray, sir, giue me leaue to wipe my face a little.

Yes, doe, good HORACE.

HORACE, thou art miserably affected to be gone, I see. But—

pray thee, let's proue, to enioy thee awhile. Thou hast no businesse, I as-

sure me. Whether is thy iourney directed? ha?

Sir, I am going to visit a friend, that's sicke.

A friend? What's he? doe not I know him?

No, sir, you doe not know him; and 'tis not the worse

for him.

What's his name? where's he lodg'd?

Where, I shall be fearefull to draw you out of your way, sir;

a great way hence: Pray', sir, let's part.

Nay, but where is't? I pray thee, say.

On the farre side of all Tyber yonder, by CAESARS gardens.

O, that's my course directly; I am for you. Come, goe: why

stand'st thou?

Yes, sir: marry, the plague is in that part of the citie; I had

almost forgot to tell you, sir.

Fow: It's no matter, I feare no pestilence, I ha' not offended

PHŒBVS.

I haue, it seemes; or else this heauie scourge

Could ne're haue lighted on me——

Come, along.

I am to goe downe some halfe mile, this way, sir, first, to speake

with his physician: And from thence to his apothecary, where I shall stay

the mixing of diuers drugs——

Why, it's all one. I haue nothing to doe, and I loue not to be

idle, I'le beare thee companie. How call'st thou the pothecary?

He dwells at the three Furies, by IANVS Temple?

Your pothecary does, sir.

Hart, I owe him money for sweet meates, and hee has laid to

arrest me, I heare: but——

Sir, I haue made a most solemne vow: I will neuer baile a-

ny man.

Well then, I'le sweare, and speake him faire, if the worst come.

But his name is MINOS, not RHADAMANTHVS, HORACE.

That may bee, sir: I but guest at his name by his signe. But

your MINOS is a iudge too, sir?

I protest to thee, HORACE (doe but taste mee once) if I doe

know my selfe, and mine owne vertues truely, thou wilt not make that e-

steeme of VARIVS, or VIRGIL, or TIBVLLVS, or any of 'hem indeed, as

now in thy ignorance thou dost; which I am content to forgiue: I would

faine see, which of these could pen more verses in a day, or with more fa-

cilitie then I; or that could court his mistris, kisse her hand, make better

sport with her fanne, or her dogge——

I cannot baile you yet, sir.

Or that could moue his body more gracefully, or dance bet-

ter: you shoo'd see mee, were it not i' the street——

Nor yet.

Why, I haue beene a reueller, and at my cloth of siluer sute,

and my long stocking, in my time, and will be againe——

If you may be trusted, sir.

And then for my singing, HERMOGENES himselfe enuies me;

that is your onely Master of musique you haue in Rome.

Is your mother liuing, sir?

Au: Conuert thy thoughts to somewhat else, I pray thee.

You haue much of the mother in you, sir: your father is

dead?

I, I thanke IOVE, and my grand-father too and all my kins-

folkes, and well compos'd in their vrnes.

The more their happinesse; that rest in peace,

Free from th'abundant torture of thy tongue;

Would I were with them too.

What's that, HORACE?

I now remember me, sir, of a sad fate

A cunning woman, one SABELLA sung,

When in her vrne, she cast my destinie,

I being but a child

What was't I pray thee?

Tut, tut: abandon this idle humour, 'tis nothing but melan-

choly. 'Fore IOVE, now I thinke ont, I am to appeare in court here, to

answere to one that has me in suit; sweet HORACE, goe with mee, this is

my houre: if I neglect it, the law proceedes against me. Thou art familiar

with these things, pray thee, if thou lou'st me, goe.

'Tis true:——

I hope the houre of my release be come: Hee will (vpon this

consideration) discharge me, sure.

Troth, I am doubtfull, what I may best doe; whether to leaue

thee, or my affaires, HORACE?

O IVPITER, mee, sir; mee, by any meanes: I beseech you,

mee, sir.

No faith, I'le venture those now: Thou shalt see I loue thee,

come HORACE.

Nay then, I am desperate: I follow you, sir. 'Tis hard

contending with a man that ouer-comes thus.

And how deales MECŒNAS with thee? liberally? ha?

Is he open-handed? bountifull?

Hee's still himselfe, sir.

Troth, HORACE, thou art exceeding happy in thy friends and

acquaintance; they are all most choice spirits, and of the first ranke of

Romanes: I doe not know that poet, I protest, ha's vs'd his fortune more

prosperously, then thou hast. If thou would'st bring me knowne to ME-

CŒNAS, I should second thy desert well; thou should'st find a good sure

assistant of mee: one, that would speake all good of thee in thy absence,

and be content with the next place, not enuying thy reputation with thy

patron. Let me not liue, but I thinke thou and I (in a small time) should

lift them all out of fauour, both VIRGIL, VARIVS, and the best of them;

and enioy him wholy to our selues.

You report a wonder! 'tis scarce credible, this.

I am no torture, to enforce you to beleeue it, but 'tis so.

Why, this enflames mee with a more ardent desire to bee his,

then before: but, I doubt I shall find the entrance, to his familiaritie, som-

what more then difficult, HORACE.

Tut, you'le conquer him, as you haue done me; There's no

standing out against you, sir, I see that. Either your importunitie, or the

intimation of your good parts; or——

Nay, I'le bribe his porter, and the groomes of his chamber;

make his doores open to mee that way, first: and then, I'le obserue my

times. Say, he should extrude mee his house to day; shall I therefore de-

sist, or let fall my suite, to morrow? No: I'le attend him, follow him, meet

him i' the street, the high waies, run by his coach, neuer leaue him. What?

Man hath nothing giuen him, in this life, without much labour.

HORACE, well met.

THat's he, in the imbrodered hat, there, with the ash-colour'd fea-

ther: his name is LABERIVS CRISPINVS.

LABERIVS CRISPINVS; I arrest you in the Empe-

rours name.

Me, sir? doe you arrest me?

I, sir, at the sute of Master MINOS the pothecarie.

Thankes, great APOLLO: I will not slip thy fauour offered

me in my escape, for my fortunes.

Master MINOS? I know no master MINOS. Where's HO-

RACE? HORACE? HORACE?

Sir, doe not you know me?

O yes; I know you, master MINOS: 'crie you mercy. But

HORACE? Gods me, is he gone?

I, and so would you too, if you knew how. Officer, looke

to him.

Doe you heare, master MINOS? pray' let's be vs'd like a man

of our owne fashion. By IANVS, and IVPITER, I meant to haue paied

you next weeke, euery drachme. Seeke not to eclipse my reputation, thus

vulgarly.

Sir, your oathes cannot serue you, you know I haue forborne

you long.

I am conscious of it, sir. Nay, I beseech you, gentlemen, doe

not exhale me thus; remember 'tis but for sweet meates——

Sweet meat must haue sowre sawce, sir. Come along.

Sweet, master MINOS: I am forfeited to eternall disgrace, if

you doe not commiserate. Good officer, be not so officious.

WHy, how now, my good brace of bloud-hounds? whither doe

you dragge the gent'man? you mungrels, you curres, you ban-

dogs, wee are Captaine TVCCA, that talke to you, you inhu-

mane pilchers.

Sir, he is their prisoner.

Their pestilence. What are you, sir?

A citizen of Rome, sir.

Then you are not farre distant from a foole, sir.

A pothecarie, sir.

I knew thou wast not a physician; fough: out of my nostrils,

thou stink'st of lotium, and the syringe: away, quack-saluer. Follower,

my sword.

Here, noble leader, youle doe no harme with it: I'le trust you.

Doe you heare, you, good-man slaue? hooke, ramme, rogue,

catch-pole, lose the gent'man, or by my veluet armes——

What will you doe, sir?

Kisse thy hand, my honourable actiue varlet: and imbrace

thee, thus.

O patient metamorphosis!

My sword, my tall rascall.

Nay, soft, sir: Some wiser then some.

What? and a wit to! By PLVTO, thou must bee cherish'd,

slaue; here's three drachmes for thee: hold.

There's halfe his lendings gone.

Giue mee.

No, sir, your first word shall stand: I'le hold all.

Nay, but, rogue——

You would make a rescue of our prisoner, sir, you?

I, a rescue? away inhumane varlet. Come, come, I neuer rel-

lish aboue one iest at most; doe not disgust me: Sirra, doe not. Rogue, I

tell thee, rogue, doe not.

How, sir? rogue?

I, why! thou art not angrie, rascall? art thou?

I cannot tell, sir, I am little better, vpon these termes.

Ha! gods, and fiends! why, do'st heare? rogue, thou, giue me

thy hand; I say vnto thee, thy hand: rogue. What? do'st not thou know

me? not me, rogue? not Captaine TVCCA, rogue?

Come: pra' surrender the gentleman his sword, officer; we'll

haue no fighting here.

What's thy name?

MINOS, an't please you.

MINOS? come, hither, MINOS; Thou art a wise fellow, it

seemes: Let me talke with thee.

Was euer wretch so wretched, as vnfortunate I?

Thou art one of the centum-viri, old boy, art' not?

No, indeed, master Captaine.

Goe to, thou shalt be, then: I'le ha' thee one, MINOS. Take

my sword from those rascals, do'st thou see? goe, doe it: I cannot at-

tempt with patience. What does this gentleman owe thee, little

MINOS?

Fourescore sesterties, sir.

What? no more? Come, thou shalt release him, MI-

NOS: what, I'le bee his baile, thou shalt take my word, old boy, and

casheere these furies: thou shalt do't, I say, thou shalt, little MINOS,

thou shalt.

Yes, and as I am a gentleman, and a reueller, I'le make a peece

of poetrie, and absolue all, within these fiue daies.

Come, MINOS is not to learne how to vse a gent'man

of qualitie, I know; My sword: If hee pay thee not, I will, and I

must, old boy. Thou shalt bee my pothecary too: ha'st good eringo's,

MINOS?

The best in Rome, sir.

Goe too then—— Vermine, know the house.

I warrant you, Collonell.

For this gentleman, MINOS?

I'le take your word, Captaine.

Thou hast it, my sword——

Yes, sir: but you must discharge the arrest, Master CRI-

SPINVS.

How, MINOS? looke in the gentlemans face, and but reade

his silence. Pay, pay; 'tis honour, MINOS.

By IOVE, sweet Captaine, you doe most infinitely endeare,

and oblige me to you.

Tut, I cannot complement, by MARS: but IVPITER loue

me, as I loue good wordes, and good clothes, and there's an end. Thou

shalt giue my boy that girdle, and hangers, when thou hast worne them a

little more——

O IVPITER! Captaine, he 'shall haue them now, presently:

please you to be acceptiue, young gentleman.

Yes, sir, feare not; I shall accept: I haue a prettie foolish hu-

mour of taking, if you knew all.

Not now, you shall not take, boy.

By my truth, and earnest, but hee shall, Captaine, by your

leaue.

Nay, and a 'sweare by his truth, and earnest, take it boy: doe

not make a gent'man forsworne.

Well, sir, there is your sword; but thanke master MINOS:

you had not carried it as you doe, else.

MINOS is iust, and you are knaues, and——

What say you, sir?

Passe on, my good scoundrell, passe on, I honour thee: But,

that I hate to haue action with such base rogues as these; you should ha'

seene me vnrip their noses now, and haue sent 'hem to the next barbers,

to stitching: for, doe you see—I am a man of humour, and I doe loue the

varlets, the honest varlets; they haue wit, and valour: and are indeed

good profitable—errant rogues, as any liue in an empire. Doest thou

heare, POETASTER? second me. Stand vp (MINOS) close, gather, yet,

so. Sir (thou shalt haue a quarter share, bee resolute) you shall, at my re-

quest, take MINOS by the hand, here, little MINOS, I will haue it so; all

friends, and a health: Be not inexorable. And thou shalt impart the wine,

old boy, thou shalt do't, little MINOS, thou shalt: make vs pay it in our

physicke. What? we must liue, and honour the gods, sometimes; now

BACCHVS, now COMVS, now PRIAPVS: euery god, a little. What's he,

that stalkes by, there? boy, PYRGVS, you were best let him passe, sirrah;

doe, ferret, let him passe, doe.

'Tis a player, sir.

A player? Call him, call the lowsie slaue hither: what, will he

saile by, and not once strike, or vaile to a Man of warre? ha? doe you

heare? you, player, rogue, stalker, come backe here: no respect to men of

worship, you slaue? What, you are proud, you rascall, are you proud? ha?

you grow rich, doe you? and purchase, you two-penny teare-mouth? you

haue fortune, and the good yeere on your side, you stinkard? you haue?

you haue?

Nay, sweet Captaine, be confin'd to some reason; I protest I

saw you not, sir.

You did not? where was your sight, OEDIPVS? you walke

with hares eies, doe you? I'le ha' 'hem glas'd, rogue; and you say the

word, they shall be glaz'd for you: come, we must haue you turne fiddler

againe, slaue, 'get a base violin at your backe, and march in a tawnie coate,

with one sleeue, to Goose-faire, and then you'll know vs; you'll see vs

then; you will, gulch, you will? Then, wil't please your worship to haue

any musicke, Captaine?

Nay, good Captaine.

What? doe you laugh, Owleglas? death, you perstemptuous

varlet, I am none of your fellowes: I haue commanded a hundred and fif-

tie such rogues, I.

I, and most of that hundred and fiftie, haue beene leaders of a

legion.

If I haue exhibited wrong, I'le tender satisfaction, Captaine.

Sai'st thou so, honest vermine? Giue me thy hand, thou shalt

make vs a supper one of these nights.

When you please, by IOVE, Captaine, most willingly.

Doest thou 'sweare? to morrow then; say, and hold slaue.

There are some of you plaiers honest gent'man-like scoundrels and suspe-

cted to ha' some wit, as well as your poets; both at drinking, and brea-

king of iests: and are companions for gallants. A man may skelder yee,

now and then, of halfe a dozen shillings, or so. Doest thou not know that

PANTALABVS there?

No, I assure you, Captaine.

Goe, and bee acquainted with him, then; hee is a gent'man,

parcell-poet, you slaue: his father was a man of worship, I tell thee. Goe,

he pens high, loftie, in a new stalking straine; bigger then halfe the rimers

i' the towne, againe: he was borne to fill thy mouth, MINOTAVRVS, he

was: hee will teach thee to teare, and rand, Rascall, to him, cherish his

muse, goe: thou hast fortie, fortie, shillings, I meane, stinkard, giue him in

earnest, doe, he shall write for thee, slaue. If hee pen for thee once, thou

shalt not need to trauell, with thy pumps full of grauell, any more, after a

blinde iade and a hamper: and stalke vpon boords, and barrell heads, to an

old crackt trumpet——

Troth, I thinke I ha' not so much about me, Captaine.

It's no matter: giue him what thou hast: Stiffe toe, I'le giue

my word for the rest: though it lacke a shilling, or two, it skils not: Goe,

thou art an honest shifter, I'le ha' the statute repeal'd for thee. MINOS,

I must tell thee, MINOS, thou hast deiected yon gent'mans spirit excee-

dingly: do'st obserue? do'st note, little MINOS?

Yes, sir.

Goe to then, raise; recouer, doe. Suffer him not to droop, in

prospect of a player, a rogue, a stager: put twentie into his hand, twentie,

sesterces, I meane, and let no bodie see: goe, doe it, the worke shall com-

mend it selfe, be MINOS, I'le pay.

Yes forsooth, Captaine.

Doe not we serue a notable sharke?

And what new matters haue you now afoot, sirrah? ha? I

would faine come with my cockatrice one day, and see a play; if I knew

when there were a good bawdie one: but they say, you ha' nothing but

humours, reuells, and satyres, that girde, and fart at the time, you slaue.

No, I assure you, Captaine, not wee. They are on the other

side of Tyber: we haue as much ribaldrie in our plaies, as can bee, as you

would wish, Captaine: All the sinners, i' the suburbs, come, and applaud

our action, daily.

I heare, you'll bring me o' the stage there; you'll play me, they

say: I shall be presented by a sort of copper-lac't scoundrels of you: life

of PLVTO, and you stage me, stinkard; your mansions shall sweat for't,

your tabernacles, varlets, your Globes, and your Triumphs.

Not we, by PHŒBVS, Captaine: doe not doe vs imputation

without desert.

I wu' not, my good two-penny rascall: reach mee thy neufe.

Do'st heare? What wilt thou giue mee a weeke, for my brace of beagles,

here, my little point-trussers? you shall ha' them act among yee. Sirrah,

you, pronounce. Thou shalt heare him speake, in king DARIVS dole

full straine.

Excellent.

Nay, thou shalt see that, shall rauish thee anon: prick vp thine

eares, stinkard: the Ghost, boies.

Now, thunder, sirrah, you, the rumbling plaier.

I, but some bodie must crie (murder) then, in a small voice.

Your fellow-sharer, there, shall do't; Crie, sirrah, crie.

O, admirable good, I protest.

Sirrah, boy, brace your drumme a little straighter, and doe

the t'other fellow there, hee in the— what sha' call him— and yet,

stay too.

Enough of this, boy.

'Pray, sweet Captaine, let one of them doe a little of a ladie.

O! he will make thee eternally enamour'd of him, there: doe,

sirrah, doe: 'twill allay your fellowes furie a little.

Here, 'tis at thy seruice, boy.

You, master MINOS, harke hither a little.

How do'st like him? art not rapt? art not tickled now? do'st

not applaud, rascall? do'st not applaud?

Yes: what will you aske for 'hem a weeke, Captaine?

No, you mangonizing slaue, I will not part from 'hem: you'll

sell 'hem for enghles you: let's ha' good cheere to morrow-night at sup-

per, stalker, and then wee'll talke, good capon, and plouer, doe you heare,

sirrah? and doe not bring your eating plaier with you there; I cannot a-

way with him: He will eate a legge of mutton, while I am in my porridge,

the leane POLVPHAGVS, his belly is like Barathrum, he lookes like a mid-

wife in mans apparell, the slaue. Nor the villanous-out-of-tune fiddler

ÆNOBARBVS, bring not him. What hast thou there? sixe and thir-

tie? ha?

No, here's all I haue (Captaine) some fiue and twentie. Pray,

sir, will you present, and accommodate it vnto the gentleman: for mine

owne part, I am a meere stranger to his humour: besides, I haue some

businesse inuites me hence, with Master ASINIVS LVPVS, the tribune.

Well: goe thy waies: pursue thy proiects, let mee alone with

this desseigne; my POETASTER shall make thee a play, and thou shalt

be a man of good parts, in it. But stay, let mee see: Doe not bring your

ÆSOPE, your polititian; vnlesse you can ram vp his mouth with cloues:

the slaue smells ranker then some sixteene dung-hills, and is seuenteene

times more rotten: Mary, you may bring FRISKER, my zany: Hee's a

good skipping swaggerer; and your fat foole there, my MANGO, bring

him too: but let him not begge rapiers, nor scarfes, in his ouer-familiar

playing face, nor rore out his barren bold iests, with a tormenting laugh-

ter, betweene drunke, and drie. Doe you heare, stiffe-toe? Giue him war-

ning, admonition, to forsake his sawcy glauering grace, and his goggle eie:

it does not become him, sirrah: tell him so. I haue stood vp and defended

you I, to gent'men, when you haue beene said to prey vpon pu'nees, and

honest citizens, for socks, or buskins: or when they ha' call'd you vsurers,

or brokers, or said, you were able to helpe to a peece of flesh—I haue

sworne, I did not thinke so. Nor that you were the common retreats for

punkes decai'd i' their practice. I cannot beleeue it of you——

'Thanke you, Captaine: IVPITER, and the rest of the gods

confine your moderne delights, without disgust.

Stay, thou shalt see the Moore, ere thou goest: what's he, with

the halfe-armes there, that salutes vs out of his cloke, like a motion? ha?

O, sir, his dubblet's a little decaied; hee is otherwise a very

simple honest fellow, sir, one DEMETRIVS, a dresser of plaies about the

towne, here; we haue hir'd him to abuse HORACE, and bring him in, in a

play, with all his gallants: as, TIBVLLVS, MECŒNAS, CORNELIVS

GALLVS, and the rest.

And: why so, stinkard?

O, it will get vs a huge deale of money (Captaine) and wee

haue need on't; for this winter ha's made vs all poorer, then so many

staru'd snakes: No bodie comes at vs; not a gentleman, nor a——

But, you know nothing by him, doe you, to make a play of?

Faith, not much, Captaine: but our Author will deuise, that,

that shall serue in some sort.

Why, my PARNASSVS, here, shall helpe him, if thou wilt:

Can thy Author doe it impudently enough?

O, I warrant you, Captaine, and spitefully inough, too; hee

ha's one of the most ouer-flowing ranke wits, in Rome. He will slander any

man that breathes, if he disgust him.

I'le know the poore, egregious, nitty rascall, and he haue these

commendable qualities, I'le cherish him (stay, here comes the Tartar) I'le

make a gathering for him, I: a purse, and put the poore slaue in fresh rags.

Tell him so, to comfort him: well said, boy.

Well, now fare thee well, my honest penny-biter: Commend

me to seuen-shares and a halfe, and remember to morrow— if you lacke

a seruice, you shall play in my name, rascalls, but you shall buy your owne

cloth, and I'le ha' two shares for my countenance. Let thy author stay

with mee.

Yes, sir.

'Twas well done, little MINOS, thou didst stalke well; forgiue

me that I said thou stunkst, MINOS: 'twas the sauour of a poet, I met swea-

ting in the street, hangs yet in my nostrills.

Who? HORACE?

I; he, do'st thou know him?

O, he forsooke me most barbarously, I protest.

Hang him fustie satyre, he smells all goate; hee carries a ram,

vnder his arme-holes, the slaue: I am the worse when I see him. Did not

MINOS impart?

Yes, here are twentie drachmes, he did conuey.

Well said, keepe 'hem, wee'll share anon; come, little

MINOS.

Faith, Captaine, I'le be bold to shew you a mistris of mine, a

iewellers wife, a gallant, as we goe along.

There spoke my Genius. MINOS, some of thy eringoes, little

MINOS; send: come hither, PARNASSVS, I must ha' thee familiar with

my little locust, here, 'tis a good vermine, they say. See, here's HORACE,

and old TREBATIVS, the great lawier, in his companie; let's auoid him,

now: He is too well seconded.

BVt, sweet ladie, say: am I well inough attir'd for the court, in

sadnesse?

Well inough? excellent well, sweet Mistris CHLOE,

this straight-bodied city attire (I can tell you) will stir a courtiers bloud,

more, then the finest loose sacks the ladies vse to be put in; and then you

are as well iewell'd as any of them, your ruffe, and linnen about you, is

much more pure then theirs: And for your beautie, I can tell you, there's

many of them would defie the painter, if they could change with you.

Mary, the worst is, you must looke to be enuied, and endure a few court-

frumps for it.

O IOVE, Madam, I shall buy them too cheape! Giue me my

muffe, and my dogge there. And will the ladies be any thing familiar with

me, thinke you?

O IVNO! why, you shall see 'hem flock about you with their

puffe wings, and aske you, where you bought your lawne? and what you

paid for it? who starches you? and entreat you to helpe 'hem to some pure

landresses, out of the citie.

O CVPID! giue me my fanne, and my masque too: And will

the lords, and the poets there, vse one well too, ladie?

Doubt not of that: you shall haue kisses from them, goe pit-

pat, pit-pat, pit-pat, vpon your lips, as thick as stones out of slings, at the

assault of a citie. And then your eares will be so furd with the breath of

their complements, that you cannot catch cold of your head (if you

would) in three winters after.

Thanke you, sweet ladie. O heauen! And how must one be-

haue her selfe amongst 'hem? you know all.

Faith impudently inough, mistris CHLOE, and well inough.

Carrie not too much vnder-thought betwixt your selfe and them; nor

your citie mannerly word (forsooth) vse it not too often in any case; but

plaine, I, Madam; and, No, Madam: Nor neuer say, your Lordship, nor

your Honor; but, you, and you my Lord, and my Ladie: the other, they

count too simple, and minsitiue. And though they desire to kisse heauen

with their titles, yet they will count them fooles that giue them too

humbly.

O intolerable, IVPITER! By my troth, ladie, I would not for

a world, but you had lyen in my house: and i' faith you shall not pay a

farthing, for your boord, nor your chambers.

O, sweet Mistresse CHLOE!

I faith, you shall not ladie, nay, good ladie, doe not offer it.

COme, where be these ladies? By your leaue, bright starres, this

gentleman and I are come to man you to court: where your

late kind entertainement is now to bee requited with a heauen-

ly banquet.

A heauenly banquet, Gallus?

No lesse, my deare, CYTHERIS.

That were not strange, ladie if the epithete were onely giuen

for the companie inuited thither; your selfe, and this faire gentlewoman.

Are we inuited to court, sir?

You are, ladie, by the great Princesse, IVLIA: who longs

to greet you with any fauours, that may worthily make you an often

courtier.

In sinceritie, I thanke her, sir. You haue a coach? ha' you not?

The Princesse hath sent her owne, ladie.

O VENVS ! that's well: I doe long to ride in a coach most

vehemently.

But, sweet GALLVS, pray you, resolue mee, why you giue

that heauenly prayse, to this earthly banquet?

Because (CYTHERIS) it must bee celebrated by the

heauenly powers: All the Gods, and Goddesses will bee there; to two of

which, you two must be exalted.

A prettie fiction in truth.

A fiction indeed, CHLOE, and fit, for the fit of a poet.

Why, CYTHERIS, may not poets (from whose diuine

spirits, all the honours of the gods haue beene deduc't) intreate so much

honor of the gods, to haue their diuine presence at a poeticall banquet?

Suppose that no fiction: yet, where are your habilities to

make vs two goddesses, at your feast?

Who knowes not (CYTHERIS) that the sacred breath

of a true poet, can blow any vertuous humanitie, vp to deitie?

To tell you the femall truth (which is the simple truth) ladies;

and to shew that poets (in spight of the world) are able to deifie them selues:

At this banquet, to which you are inuited, wee intend to assume the fi-

gures of the Gods; and to giue our seuerall Loues the formes of God-

desses. OVID will be IVPITER; the Princesse IVLIA, IVNO; GALLVS

here APOLLO; you CYTHERIS, PALLAS; I will bee BACCHVS; and

my Loue PLAVTIA, CERES: And to install you, and your husband,

faire CHLOE, in honours, equall with[inked quad] ours; you shall be a Goddesse, and

your husband a God.

A God? O my god!

A God, but a lame God; ladie: for he shall be VULCAN, and

you VENVS. And this will make our banquet no lesse then heauenly.

In sinceritie, it will bee sugred. Good IOVE, what a prettie

foolish thing it is to be a poet! But harke you, sweet CYTHERIS; could

they not possibly leaue out my husband? mee thinkes, a bodies husband

do's not so well at Court; A bodies friend, or so——but husband,

'tis like your clog to your marmaset, for all the world, and the heauens.

Tut, neuer feare, CHLOE: your husband will be left without

in the lobby, or the great chamber, when you shall be put in, i' the closet,

by this lord, and by that lady.

Nay, then I am certified: he shall goe.

HORACE! Welcome.

Gentlemen, heare you the newes?

What newes, my QVINTVS?

Our melancholike friend, PROPERTIVS,

Hath clos'd himselfe, vp, in his CYNTHIAS tombe;

And will by no intreaties be drawne thence.

Nay, good master CRISPINVS, pray you, bring neere the

gentleman.

CRISPINVS? Hide mee, good GALLVS: TIBVLLVS, shel-

ter mee.

Make your approch, sweet Captaine.

What meanes this, HORACE?

I am surpriz'd againe, farewell.

Stay, HORACE.

What, and be tir'd on, by yond' vulture? No:

PHŒBVS defend me.

'Slight! I hold my life,

This same is he met him in holy street.

Troth, 'tis like enough. This act of PROPERTIVS relisheth

very strange, with me.

By thy leaue, my neat scoundrell: what, is this the mad boy

you talk't on?

I: this is master ALBIVS, Captaine.

Giue me thy hand, AGAMEMNON; we heare abroad, thou art

the HECTOR of citizens: what sayest thou? are we welcome to thee, no-

ble NEOPTOLEMVS?

Welcome, Captaine? by IOVE, and all the Gods i' the capi-

toll——

No more, we conceiue thee. Which of these is thy wedlocke,

MENELAVS? thy HELLEN? thy LVCRECE? that wee may doe her ho-

nor; mad boy?

Shee i' the little fine dressing, sir, is my Mistris.

For fault of a better, sir.

A better, prophane rascall? I crie thee mercy (my good

scroile) was't thou?

No harme, Captaine.

Shee is a VENVS, a VESTA, a MELPOMENE: Come hither,

PENELOPE; what's thy name, IRIS?

My name is CHLOE, sir; I am a gentlewoman.

Thou art in merit to be an empresse (CHLOE) for an eye, and

a lip; thou hast an emperors nose: kisse me againe: 'tis a vertuous punke,

So. Before IOVE, the gods were a sort of goslings, when they suffred so

sweet a breath, to perfume the bed of a stinkard: thou hadst ill fortune,

THISBE; the fates were infatuate; they were, punke; they were.

That's sure, sir: let me craue your name, I pray you, sir.

I am know'n by the name of Captaine TVCCA, punke; the

noble Roman, punke: a gent'man, and a commander, punke.

In good time: a gentleman, and a commander? that's as good

as a poet, me thinkes.

A prettie instrument! It's my cousin CYTHERIS violl, this:

is't not?

Nay, play cousin, it wants but such a voice, and hand, to grace

it, as yours is.

Alas, cousin, you are merrily inspir'd.

'Pray you play, if you loue me.

Yes, cousin: you know, I doe not hate you.

A most subtill wench! How she hath baited him with a violl

yonder, for a song!

Cousin, 'pray you call mistris CHLOE; shee shall heare an

essay of my poetrie.

I'le call her. Come hither, cockatrice: here's one, will set thee

vp, my sweet punke; set thee vp.

Are you a puet, so soone, sir?

Wife: mum.

O, most odoriferous musicke!

A, ha! stinkard. Another ORPHEVS, you slaue, another OR-

PHEVS! an ARION, riding on the backe of a dolphin, rascall!

Haue you a copy of this dittie, sir?

Master ALBIVS ha's.

I, but in truth, they are my wiues verses; I must not shew

'hem.

Shew 'hem, bankerupt, shew 'hem; they haue salt in 'hem, and

will brooke the aire, stinkard.

How? to his bright mistris, CANIDIA?

I, sir, that's but a borrowed name; as OVIDS CORINNA, or

PROPERTIVS his CYNTHIA, or your NEMESIS, or DELIA, TI-

BVLLVS.

It's the name of HORACE his witch, as I remember.

Why? the ditt'is all borrowed; 'tis HORACES: hang him

plagiary.

How? he borrow of HORACE? hee shall pawne himselfe to

ten brokers, first. Doe you heare, POETASTERS? I know you to be men

of worship— He shall write with HORACE, for a talent: and let ME-

CŒNAS, and his whole colledge of criticks take his part: thou shalt do't,

young PHŒBVS: thou shalt, PHAETON; thou shalt.

Alas, sir, HORACE! hee is a meere spunge; nothing but hu-

mours, and obseruation, he goes vp and downe sucking from euery socie-

tie, and when hee comes home, squeazes himselfe drie againe. I know

him, I.

Thou saiest true, my poore poeticall Furie, hee will pen all hee

knowes. A sharpe thornie-tooth'd satyricall rascall, flie him; hee carries

hey in his horne: he wil sooner lose his best friend, then his least iest. What

he once drops vpon paper, against a man, liues eternally to vpbraid him

in the mouth of euery slaue tankerd-bearer, or water-man; not a bawd,

or a boy that comes from the bake-house, but shall point at him: 'tis all

dogge, and scorpion; he carries poison in his teeth, and a sting in his taile.

Fough, body of IOVE! I'le haue the slaue whipt one of these daies for his

satyres, and his humours, by one casheer'd clarke, or another.

Wee'll vnder-take him, Captaine.

I, and tickle him i' faith, for his arrogancie, and his impudence,

in commending his owne things; and for his translating? I can trace him

i' faith. O, he is the most open fellow, liuing; I had as lieue as a new sute,

I were at it.

Say no more then, but doe it; 'tis the only way to get thee a

new sute; sting him, my little neufts; I'le giue you instructions: I'le bee

your intelligencer, we'll all ioyne, and hang vpon him like so many horse-

leaches, the plaiers and all. We shall sup together, soone; and then wee'll

conspire, i' faith.

O, that HORACE had staied still, here.

So would not I: for both these would haue turn'd Pythago-

reans, then.

What, mute?

I, as fishes i'faith: come, ladies, shall we goe?

Wee await you, sir. But mistris CHLOE askes, if you haue not

a god to spare, for this gentleman.

Who, Cap taine TVCGA?

I; hee.

Yes, if we can inuite him along, he shall be MARS.

Ha's MARS any thing to doe with VENVS?

O, most of all, ladie.

Nay, then I pray' let him bee inuited: and what shall CRI-

SPINVS be?

MERCVRY, mistris CHLOE.

MERCVRY? that's a Poet? is't?

No, ladie; but somewhat inclining that way: hee is a Herald

at armes.

A Herald at armes? good: and MERCVRY? pretty: hee ha's

to doe with VENVS, too?

A little with her face, ladie; or so.

'Tis very well; pray' let's goe, I long to be at it.

Gentlemen, shall we pray your companies along?

You shall not only pray, but preuaile, ladie. Come, sweet

Captaine.

Yes, I follow: but thou must not talke of this now, my little

bankerupt.

Captaine, looke here: mum.

I'le goe write, sir.

Doe, doe, stay: there's a drachme, to purchase ginger-bread,

for thy muse.

COme, let vs talke, here; here we may be priuate: shut the dore

You are a plaier, you say.

I, and't please your worship.

Good: and how are you able to giue this intelligence?

Mary, sir, they directed a letter to me, and my fellow-sharers.

Speake lower, you are not now i' your theater, Stager: my

sword, knaue. They directed a letter to you, and your fellow-sharers:

forward.

Yes, sir; to hire some of our properties; as a scepter; and a

crowne, for IOVE; and a caduceus for MERCVRY: and a petasus—

Caduceus? and petasus? Let me see your letter. This is a con-

iuration; a conspiracy, this. Quickly, on with my buskins: I'le act a

tragœdie, i' faith. Will nothing but our gods serue these poets to prophane?

dispatch. Plaier, I thanke thee. The Emperour shall take knowledge of

thy good seruice. Who's there now? Looke, knaue. A crowne, and a

scepter? this is good rebellion, now?

'Tis your pothecary, sir, master MINOS.

Whither now, ASINIVS LVPVS, with this armorie?

I cannot talke now; I charge you, assist me: Treason, treason.

How? treason?

I: if you loue the Emperour, and the state, follow me.

GOds, and Goddesses, take your seuerall seates. Now, MERCVRY,

moue your caduceus, and in IVPITERS name command silence.

In the name of IVPITER; silence.

The cryer of the court hath too clarified a voice.

Peace, Momus.

Oh, he is the God of reprehension; let him alone. 'Tis his of-

fice. MERCVRY, goe forward, and proclaime after PHŒBVS, our high

pleasure, to all the Deities that shall partake this high banquet.

Yes, sir.

So: now we may play the fooles, by authoritie.

To play the foole by authoritie, is wisdome.

Away with your matterie sentences, Momus; they are too

graue, and wise, for this meeting.

MERCVRY, giue our iester a stoole, let him sit by; and reach

him of our cates.

Do'st heare, mad IVPITER? Wee'll haue it enacted; He, that

speakes the first wise word, shall be made cuckold. What sai'st thou? Is't

not a good motion?

Deities, are you all agreed?

Agreed, great IVPITER.

I haue read in a booke, that to play the foole wisely, is high

wisdome.

How now, VULCAN! will you be the first wizard?

Take his wife, MARS, and make him cuckold, quickly.

Come cockatrice.

No, let me alone with him, IVPITER: I'le make you take heed,

sir, while you liue againe; if there be twelue in a companie, that you be

not the wisest of 'hem.

No more, I will not indeed, wife, hereafter; I'le be here: mum.

Fill vs a bowle of nectar, GANYMEDE: we will drinke to our

daughter VENVS.

Looke to your wife VULCAN: IVPITER begins to court her.

Nay, let MARS looke to it: VULCAN must doe, as VENVS

doe's, beare.

Sirrah, boy: catamite. Looke, you play GANYMEDE well

now, you slaue. Doe not spill your nectar; Carrie your cup euen: so. You

should haue rub'd your face, with whites of egges, you rascall; till your

browes had shone like our sooty brothers here, as sleeke as a horn-booke:

or ha' steept your lips in wine, till you made 'hem so plump, that IVNO

might haue beene iealous of 'hem. Punke, kisse me, punke.

Here, daughter VENVS, I drinke to thee.

'Thanke you, good father IVPITER.

Why, mother IVNO! gods and fiends! what, wilt thou suf-

fer this ocular temptation?

MARS is enrag'd, hee lookes bigge, and begins to stut, for

anger.

Well plaid, Captaine MARS.

Well said, minstrell MOMVS: I must put you in? must I?

When will you be in good fooling of your selfe, fiddler? neuer?

O, 'tis our fashion, to be silent, when there is a better foole in

place, euer.

Thanke you, rascall.

Fill to our daughter VENVS, GANYMEDE, who fills her fa-

ther with affection.

Wilt thou be ranging, IVPITER, before my face?

Why not, IVNO? why should IVPITER stand in awe of thy

face, IVNO?

Because it is thy wiues face, IVPITER.

What, shall a husband bee afraid of his wiues face? will shee

paint it so horribly? Wee are a King, cot-queane; and we will raigne in

our pleasures; and wee will cudgell thee to death, if thou finde fault

with vs.

I will find fault with thee, King cuckold-maker: what, shall

the King of gods turne the King of good fellowes, and haue no fellow in

wickednesse? This makes our poets, that know our prophanenesse, liue as

prophane, as we: By my god-head, IVPITER; I will ioyne with all the

other gods, here; bind thee hand and foot; throw thee downe into earth;

and make a poore poet of thee, if thou abuse me thus.

A good smart-tongu'd Goddesse; a right IVNO.

IVNO, wee will cudgell thee, IVNO: we told thee so yesterday,

when thou wert iealous of vs, for THETIS.

Nay, to day shee had me in inquisition too.

Well said, my fine Phrygian frie, informe, informe. Giue mee

some wine (King of Heralds) I may drinke to my cockatrice.

No more, GANYMEDE, wee will cudgell thee, IVNO: by

STYX, we will.

I, 'tis well, Gods may grow impudent in iniquitie, and they

must not be told of it——

Yea, we will knocke our chinne against our brest, and shake

thee out of Olympus, into an oyster-bote, for thy scolding.

Your nose is not long enough to doe it, IVPITER, if all thy

strumpets, thou hast among the starres, tooke thy part. And there is neuer

a starre in thy fore-head, but shall be a horne, if thou persist to abuse me.

A good iest, i' faith.

We tell thee, thou anger'st vs, cot-queane; and we will thun-

der thee in peeces, for thy cot-queanitie.

Another good iest.

O, my hammers, and my Cyclops! this boy fills not wine e-

nough, to make vs kind enough, to one another.

Nor thou hast not collied thy face enough, stinkard.

I'le ply the table with nectar, and make them friends.

Heauen is like to haue but a lame skinker, then.

“Wine, and good liuers, make true louers: I'le sentence them

together. Here father, here mother, for shame, drinke your selues drunke,

and forget this dissention: you two should cling together, before our fa-

ces, and giue vs example of vnitie.

O, excellently spoken, VULCAN, on the sodaine!

IVPITER, may doe well to preferre his tongue to some office,

for his eloquence.

His tongue shall bee gent'man vsher to his wit, and still goe

before it.

An excellent fit office!

I, and an excellent good iest, besides.

What, haue you hired MERCVRY, to cry your iests you make?

MOMVS, you are enuious.

Why, you whoreson block-head, 'tis your only blocke of wit

in fashion (now adaies) to applaud other folkes iests.

True: with those that are not artificers themselues. VUL-

CAN, you nod; and the mirth of the iest droops.

He ha's fild nectar so long, till his braine swims in it.

What, doe we nod, fellow Gods? sound musicke, and let vs

startle our spirits with a song.

Doe, APOLLO: thou art a good musician.

What saies IVPITER?

Ha? ha?

A song.

Why, doe, doe, sing.

BACCHVS, what say you?

CERES?

But, to this song?

Sing, for my part.

Your belly weighes downe your head, BACCHVS: here's a

song toward.

Begin, VULCAN——

What else? what else?

Say, IVPITER——

MERCVRY——

I, say, say——

I like not this sodaine and generall heauinesse, amongst our

Godheads: 'Tis somewhat ominous. APOLLO, command vs lowder

musicke, and let MERCVRY, and MOMVS contend to please, and reuiue

our senses.

I: This hath wak't vs. MERCVRY, our Herald; Goe from

our selfe, the great God IVPITER, to the great Emperour, AVGVSTVS

CAESAR: And command him, from vs (of whose bountie he hath recei-

ued his sir-name, AVGVSTVS) that for a thanke-offring to our benefi-

cence, he presently sacrifice as a dish to this banquet, his beautifull and

wanton daughter IVLIA. Shee's a curst queane, tell him; and plaies the

scold behind his backe: Therefore, let her be sacrific'd. Command him

this, MERCVRY, in our high name of IVPITER ALTITONANS.

Stay, feather-footed MERCVRY, and tell AVGVSTVS, from

vs, the great IVNO SATVRNIA; if he thinke it hard to doe, as IVPITER

hath commanded him, and sacrifice his daughter, that hee had better to

doe so ten times, then suffer her to loue the well-nos'd poet, Ouid: whom

he shall doe well to whip, or cause to bee whipt, about the capitoll, for

soothing her, in her follies.

WHat's become of my little punke, VENVS! and the poult-

foot stinkard, her husband? ha?

O, they are rid home i' the coach, as fast as the

wheeles can runne.

God IVPITER is banisht, I heare: and his cockatrice, IVNO,

lockt vp: 'Hart, and and all the poetrie in Parnassus get me to bee a player

againe, I'le sell 'hem my share for a sesterce. But this is humours, HO-

RACE, that goat-footed enuious slaue; hee's turn'd fawne now, an infor-

mer, the rogue: 'tis hee has betraid vs all. Did you not see him, with the

Emperour, crouching?

Yes.

Well, follow me. Thou shalt libell, and I'le cudgell the ras-

call. Boy, prouide me a truncheon; Reuenge shall gratulate him, tam

MARTI, quàm MERCVRIO.

I, but Master; take heed how you giue this out, HORACE is a

man of the sword.

'Tis true, in troth: they say, he's valiant.

Valiant? so is mine arse, gods, and fiends! I'le blow him into

aire, when I meet him next: He dares not fight with a puck-fist.

Master, here he comes.

Where? IVPITER saue thee, my good poet; my noble pro-

phet; my little fat HORACE. I scorne to beate the rogue i' the court; and

I saluted him, thus faire, because hee should suspect nothing, the rascall:

Come, wee'll goe see how forward our iourney-man is toward the vn-

trussing of him.

Doe you heare, Captaine? I'le write nothing in it but inno-

cence: because I may sweare I am innocent.

Nay, why pursue you not the Emperor for your reward, now,

LVPVS?

COme, follow me, assist me, second me: where's the Emperour?

Sir, you must pardon vs.

CAESAR is priuate now, you may not enter.

Not enter? Charge 'hem, vpon their allegeance, crop-shin.

We haue a charge to the contrary, sir.

speake with CAESAR.

I coniure thee, as thou art CAESAR, or respect'st thine owne

safetie; or the safetie of the state, CAESAR: Heare mee, speake with mee,

CAESAR; 'tis no common businesse, I come about; but such as, being

neglected, may concerne the life of CAESAR.

The life of CAESAR? Let him enter. VIRGIL, keepe thy seat.

Beare backe there: whither will you? keepe backe.

By thy leaue good man vsher: mend thy perruke, so.

Lay hold on HORACE there; and on MECŒNAS, Lictors.

Romans, offer no rescue, vpon your allegeance: Reade, royall CAESAR;

I'le tickle you, Satyre.

He will, humours, he will: He will squeeze you, Poet puckfist.

I'le lop you off, for an vnprofitable branch, you satyricall

varlet.

I, and EPAMINONDAS your patron, here, with his flaggon