It shall goe so.

Young master, Master Ouid, do you heare?

Gods a me! away with your songs and sonets; and on with your

gowne and Cappe, quickly: here, here, your Father will bee 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 me readie to cast, by the bankes of Helicon. Nay looke,

what a rascally vntoward thing this Poetry is; I could teare

hem now.

Giue mee, how neere's my Father?

Hart a'man: get a lawe booke in your hand, I will not

answere you else. Why so: now there's some formalitie in you;

By Ioue, & three or foure of the Gods more, I am right of myne

olde masters humour for that; this villanous Poetry will vndoe

you, by the Welkin.

What, hast thou buskins on, Luscus, 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 mad skeldring Captaine, with

the veluet armes, readie to lay holde on him as he comes down:

hee that presses euery man hee meetes, with an oath, to lend

him money, and cries; Thou must doo't old boy, as thouart a man, a

man of worshippe.

Who? Pantilius Tucca?

I, hee: and I met little master Lupus the Tribune, going

(thither too.

Nay, and he be vnder their arrest, I may (with safetie e-

nough) reade ouer my Elegy, before he come.

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

are not Castalian mad, lunatike, frantike, desperate? ha?

VVhat ailest thou, Luscus?

God be with you sir, Ile leaue you to your Poeticall fan-

cies and furies. Ile not be guilty, I.

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

For thus alone, our Eare shall better iudge

The hastie errors of our morning Muse.

YOVR name shall liue indeede sir; your say true:

but how infamously, how scorn'd and contem-

n'd in the eyes and eares of the best and grauest Romanes, that

you think not on: you neuer so much as dreame of that. Are

these the fruits of all my Trauaile & Expenses? is this the Scope

and Aime of thy studies? are these the hopeful courses, wherwith

I haue so long flattered my expectation from thee? Verses? Poe-

try? Ouid, whome I thought to see the Pleader, become Ouid

the Play-maker?

No Sir.

Yes Sir. I heare of a Tragedie of yours comming

foorth for the comon Players there, call'd Medea. By my hous-

holde gods, if I come to the acting of it, Ile adde one tragicke parte,

more then is yet expected, to it: beleeue me when I promise it.

What? shal I haue my son a Stager now? an Enghle for Players?

a Gull? a Rooke? a Shot-clog? to make suppers, and bee laught

at? Publius, I wil set thee on the funeral pile first.

Sir, I beseech you to haue patience.

Nay, this tis to haue your eares damm'd vp to good coũ-

sell. I did augure all this to him afore hand, without poring into

an oxes paunch for the matter, and yet he would not be scru-

pulous.

How now, goodman slaue? what, Rowle Powle? all ri-

uals, Rascal? why my Knight of worshippe, do'st heare?

Are these thy best proiectes? is this thy desseignes and thy discipline, to

suffer knaues to be competitors with Commaunders and Gent-

men? are we paralels, rascall? are we paralels?

Sirrah, goe get my horses readie. You'll still be pra-

ting.

Doe, you perpetuall Stinkard, doe: goe, talke to Tap-

sters and Ostlers you slaue: they are i'your element, go: here be

the Emperours captaines, you Raggamuffin Rascal; and not your

Comrades.

Indeede, Sir Marcus Ouid, these Players are an idle Ge-

neration, & doe much harme in a State, corrupt young gentrie

very much, I knowe it: I haue not been a Tribune thus long and

obseru'd nothing: besides, they will robbe vs, vs, that are

Magistrates, of our respect, bring vs vpon their Stages, & make

vs ridiculous to the Plebeians; they will play you, or me, the wi-

sest men they can come by still; me: onely to bring vs in con-

tempt with the vulgar, and make vs cheape.

Th'art in the right, my venerable Cropshin, they wil

indeede: the tongue of the Oracle neuer twangd truer. Your

Courtier cannot kisse his mistresse Slippers, in quiet, for 'hem,

nor your white innocent Gallant pawne his reuelling suit, to

make his Punque a supper. An honest decayed Commaunder,

cannot skelder, cheat, nor be seene in a baudie house, but he shal

be straight in one of their wormewod Comedies. 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 Iwisse.

Me thinkes if nothing else, yet this alone; the verie

reading of the publike Edictes should fright thee from Com-

merce with them; and giue thee distaste enough of their acti-

ons. 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.

Cornelius Gallus borrowed it to reade.

Cornelius Gallus? Ther's another gallant, too, hath

drunke of the same poyson: and Tibullus and Propertius. But

these are Gentlemen of meanes, and Reuenewes now. Thou art

a yonger brother, and hast nothing, but thy bare exhibition:

which I protest shall be bare indeede, if thou forsake not these

vnprofitable by-courses, and that timely too. Name me a pro-

fest Poet, that his Poetry did euer afford him so much as a com-

petencie. I, your God of Poets there (whom all of you admire

and reuerence so much) Homer, he whose worm-eaten Statue

must not be spewd against, but with hallowed lips and groue-

ling adoration, what was he? what was he?

Marry Ile tell thee old Swaggrer; He was a poore blind

riming Rascal, that liu'd obscurely vp and down in Boothes &

Tap-houses, and scarce euer made a good meale in his sleepe,

the whorson hungry begger.

He sayes well. Nay I knowe this nettles you now:

but answere mee; Is't not true? Is't not true? You'll tell mee his

name shal liue, & that now (being deade) his workes haue eter-

nised him, and made him diuine: but coulde this diuinitie

feede him while he liued, could his name feast him?

Thou speak'st sentences, olde Bias.

Well, the day growes olde, gentlemen, and I must

leaue you. Publius, if thou wilt hould my fauour, abādon these

idle fruitlesse studies that so traduce thee. Send Ianus home his

backe face againe, and looke onely forward to the Law: Intend

that I will alowe thee, what shal suit thee in the ranke of Gen-

tlemen, and maintaine thy societie with the best: & vnder these

conditions, I leaue thee. My blessings light vpon thee, if thou respect them: if not, mine eyes may droppe for thee, but thine

owne heart will ake for it selfe; and so farewell. What, are my

horses come?

Yes Sir, they are at the gate without.

That's well. Asinius Lupus, a word. Captaine, I

shall take my leaue of you?

No, my little knight Errant, dispatch with Caualier

Cothurnus there; I'le attend thee, I.

To borrowe some ten Drachmes, I knowe his Pro-

iecte.

Sir you shall make mee beholding to you. Now

Captaine Tucca, what say you?

Why, what should I say? or what can I say, my most

Magnanimous Mirror of Knighthood? Shold I say thou art rich?

or that thou art honorable? or wise? or valiant? or learned? or li-

berall? Why, thou art all these, and thou knowest it (my noble

Lucullus) thou knowest it: come, be not ashamed of thy ver-

tues, olde Stumpe. Honour's a good brooch to weare in a mans

hat, at all times. Thou art the man of warres Mecænas, knight.

Why shouldst not thou bee grac't then by them, as well as he

is by his Poets? How now my Carier, what newes?

The boy has stayed within for his cue, this halfe howre.

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 Glan-

ders, and some dosen diseases more, light on him, & his Moyles. V

Vhat ha' they the Yellowes, his Moyles, that they come no

faster? or are they fowndred? ha? his Moyles ha' the Staggers

belike: ha' they?

O no Sir: then your tongue might be suspected for one

of his Moyles.

He owes me almost a Talent, and he 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 Turues, say. What, wil he clem me and

my followers? Aske him and he will clem mee: doe, goe. Hee

would haue me fry my Ierkin, would he? Away Setter, away.

Yet stay, my little tumbler: the Knight shall supply now: I will

not trouble him, I cannot be importunate, I: I cannot bee im-

pudent.

Alas sir no: you are the most maidenly blushing creature

vpon the earth.

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

Thou art not to learne the humours and trickes of that old bald

Cheater, Time: thou hadst not this chaine for nothing. Men of

worth haue their Chymæra's, as wel as other creatures: and they

oe see monsters, sometimes: they doe, they doe.

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

Thou must let mee haue six, six, Drachmes, I mean, Old boy;

thou shalt do it: I tel thee, Old boy, thou shalt, and in priuate

too, dost thou see? Goe, walke off: there, there. Six is the sum.

Thy sonn's a gallant Sparke, and must not be put out of a sud-

daine: come hither, Callimachus. Thy Father tels me thou art

too Poeticall, Slaue: thou must not be so: thou must leaue them,

yoong Nouice; thou must: They are a sort of poore starued

Rascalles; that are euer wrapt vp in foule linnen: and can boast

of nothing but a leane visage, peering out of a seam-rent

suite; the very Emblemes of Beggery. No: dost heare? turne

Lawyer, Thou shalt be my Solicitor:

Tis right olde boy, Ist?

You were best tell it Captaine.

No: fare thou well mine honest Knight, and thou olde

Beauer[unclear: ,] Pray thee Knight, when thou commest to towne, see me

at my lodging, visite me some times: Thou shalt be welcome

olde boy: doe not balke me good Swaggrer; Ioue keepe thy

chaine from pawning: goe thy waies: if thou lacke money Ile

lend thee some: I'le leaue thee to thy horse, now; Adue.

Farwell good Captaine.

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

Tis a strange boldnes, that accompanies this fel-

low: Come.

Ile 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.

MAster Crispinus, you are welcome; Pray', vse

a stoole Sir. Your Cosen Cytheris, will come

downe presently. We are so busie for the re-

ceceauing 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 very well Sir. Nere trust me, but you are most

delicatly seated here, full of sweete delight and blandishment;

An excellent ayre, An excellent Ayre.

I Sir, tis a pretty ayre: These Courtiers runne in my

minde still; I must looke out: for Iupiters sake sit Sir, or please

you walke into the Garden. Ther's a Garden on the backside.

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; Fie, here be roomes sa-

uor the most pittifully ranke that euer I felt: I cry the Gods

mercy, my Husband's in the winde of vs.

Why this is good, Excellent, Excellent: well said

my sweete Chloë. Trim vp your house most obsequiously.

For Vulcanes sake, breath some where else; in troth

you ouercome our Perfumes exceedingly, you are to predo-

minant.

Heare but my Opinion, sweete Wife.

A pinne for your Pinnion. In sinceritie, if you be thus

fulsome to me in euery thing, I'le be diuorc't; Gods my body!

you know what you were, before I married you; I was a Gen-

tlewoman 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 we might rule our husbands, like Ladies; and doe

what we listed: doe you thinke I would haue married you

else?

I acknowledge, sweete wife: she speakes the best

of any woman in Italy, and moues 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 sweete wife—

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

you Husband, and you call me wife: but you must still be po-

king me, against my will to things?

But you know wife; here are the greatest Ladies,

and Gallantst Gentlemen of Rome, to be enterteyn'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 Idly?

You would seeme to be Master? You would haue your spoke

in my cart? you would aduise me to Entertaine Ladies, and

Gentlemen? bicause you canne marshall your Packneedles,

Horsecombes, Hobby-horses, and Wall-Candlesticks in your

warehouse better then I; therefore you can tell how to Enter-

taine Ladies, and Gentlefolkes better then I?

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

sauours sweetely from any thing; He that respects to get, must

relish all commodities alike; and admit no difference betwixt

Oade, and Frankincense; or the most pretious Balsamum, and a

Tarre-barrell.

Mary fough: You sell snuffers to, if you be remem-

bred, but I pray you let me buy them out of your hand; for I

tell you true, I take it highly in snuffe, to learne how to Enter-

taine 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 Lady? nor Musique? nor Masques,

Nor you, nor your honse 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 sweete Wife; I am Muin, my deare

Mumma, my Balsamum, my Sperma Cete, & my verry Citty

of— she has the most best, true, fæminine wit in Rome.

I haue heard so Sir; and doe most vehemently defire

to participate the knowledge of her faire Features.

Ah, peace; you shall heare more anon; be not seene

yet; I pray you; not yet; obserue.

S'body, giue Husbands the head a little more, and

they'll be nothing but Head shortly; whats he there?

I know not forsooth:

Who would you speake with Sir?

I would speake with my Cosen Cytheris

Hee is one forsooth would speake with his Cosen

Cytheris.

Is she your Cosen Sir?

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

She is a Gentlewoman?

Or else, she should not be my Cosen, I assure you;

Are you a Gentleman borne?

That I am Lady; you shall see mine Armes, if't please

you.

No, your legges doe sufficiently shew you are a Gen-

tleman borne Sir: for a man borne vpon little legges, is alwaies

a Gentleman borne.

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

Mistresse; for I beare them about me, to haue h'em seene: my

name is Crispinus, or Cri-spinas indeede; which is well ex-

prest in my armes, a Face crying in chiefe; and beneath it a

bloody Toe, betweene three Thornes Pungent.

Then you are welcome Sir; now you are a Gentleman

borne, I can finde in my hart to welcome you: for I am a Gen-

tlewoman borne too; and will beare my head high enough,

though twere my fortune to marry a Flat-cappe.

Deare wife be not angry.

God's my passion!

Heare me but one thing; let not your maides set

Cushions in the Parlor windowes; nor in the dining Chamber

windowes; nor vpon stooles, in either of them in any case;

for tis Tauerne like; but lay them one vpon an other, in some

out Roome, or corner of the dining 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, Ile not be pleas'd

with you onely.

Looke here, my deare Wife, entertaine that Gentle-

man kindly, I pre' thee; ——Mum.

Goe, I need your instructions indeede; Anger me no

more, I aduise you. Citi-sin quotha'! shees a Wise Gentlewo-

man yfaith, will marry her selfe to the Synne of the Citty.

But this time, and no more (by heauen) Wife: hang no

pictures in the Hall, nor in the dining Chamber, in any case,

but in the Gallery onely, for tis not Courtly else, on my word,

Wife.

Wife.

Doe I not beare a reasonable corrigible hand ouer

him, Crispinus?

By this hand Lady, you hold a most sweete hand

ouer him.

And then for the great gilt Andyrons?

Againe! would the Andyrons were in your great

guts, for me.

I doe vanish, Wife.

How shall I doe, Master Crispinus? here will be all

the brauest Ladies in Court presently, to see your Cosen Cy-

theris: O the Gods! how might I behaue my selfe now, as to

entertaine them most Courtly?

Marry Lady, if you will entertaine them most Court-

ly, you must doe thus: as soone as euer your maide, or your

man brings you word they are come; you must say, A pox on

'hem, what de they here? And yet when they come, speak them as

faire, & giue them the kindest welcome in wordes, that can be.

Is that the fashion of Courtiers, Crispinus?

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

For your Pox Sir, it is easily hit vpon; but, 'tis not so ea-

sie to speake faire after, me thinks?

O VVife, the Coaches are come, on my word, a number

of Coaches and Courtiers.

A pox on them: what doe they here?

How now wife! wouldst thou not haue them come?

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

ricke on't. Cal Cytheris I pray you: and good master Crispinus,

you can obserue, you say; let me intreate you for all the Ladies

behauiors, Iewels, Iestes, and Attyres, that you marking as

well as I, we may put both our markes togither, when they are

gone, and confer of them.

I warrant you Sweet Ladie; let me alone to obserue,

till I turne my selfe to nothing but obseruation

God morrow cosen Cytheris.

Welcome kinde cosen. What, are they come?

I, your friend Cornelius Gallus, Ouid, Tibullus,Proper-

tius, with Iulia the Emperors daughter, and the Ladie Plautia

are lighted at the dore; and with them Hermogenes Tigellius,

the excellent Musitian.

Come, let vs goe meete them Chloë.

Obserue Chrispinus.

At a haires breadth Ladie, I warrant you.

Health to the louely Chloë. you must pardon me Mis-

tris, that I preferre this faire Gentlewoman.

I pardon, and praise you for it, Sir; and I beseech your Ex-

cellence, receiue her beauties into your Knowledge and Fauour.

Cytheris, she hath Fauour, & behauiour, that commands

as much of mee; and sweete Chloë, know I doe exceedingly

loue you, & that I wil approue in any grace my father the Em-

perour may shewe you. Is this your husband?

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

Gods my life! how he shames mee!

Not a whit Chloë, they all thinke you politicke, and

wittie; wise women chuse not husbands for the Eye, Merit,

or Byrth; but wealth, and Soueraignty.

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; Ile come to

you againe presently.

You haue chosen you a most faire companion here,

Cytheris; and a very faire house.

To both which, you and all my friends, are very wel-

comePlautia.

With all my heart, I assure your Ladishippe.

Thanks, sweete Mistresse Chloë.

You must needes come to Court Ladie yfaith, and there

be sure your welcome shall be as great to vs.

She will well deserue it Madam. I see, euen in her

lookes, Gentry, and generall worthinesse.

I haue not seene a more certaine Character of an ex-

lent disposition.

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

the matter now?

For the banquet, sweete wife.

es; and I must needs come to Court; and be welcome,

the Princesse saies.

Ouid and Tibullus, you may be bolde to welcome

your Mistresses here.

VVe finde it so Sir.

And thanke Cornelius Gall[unclear: sn].

Now in sincerity, they be the finest kind of men, that e-

uer I knew; Poets? Could not one get the Emper[unclear] to make my

husband a Poet, thinke you?

No Ladie, tis Loue, and Beauty make Poets: & since

you like Poets so well, your Loue, aud Beauties shall make me

a Poet.

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, Ladie.

Well, we shall see your cunning: yet if you can chãge

your Haire, I pray: do.

Ladies, and Lordings, there's a slight Banquet staies

within for you, please you drawe nere and accost it.

We thanke you good Albius: but when shall wee see

those excellent Iewels you are commended to haue?

At your Ladishippes seruice. I got that speach by seeing

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

collect sometimes; Ile frequent these Playes more then I haue

done, now I come to be familiar with Courtiers.

VVhy how now Hermogenes? what ailest thou trow?

A little melancholy, let mee alone, pray thee

Melancholy! how so?

With ryding: a plague on all Coaches for me.

Is that hard fauourd Gentleman a Poet too; Cytheris?

No; this is Hermogenes; as humorous as a Poet though:

he is a Musitian.

A Musitian? 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 wou[unclear: l]d faine heare

Hermogenes sing: are you interested in him?

No doubt, his owne Humanitie will commaund him so farre, to the satisfaction of so

faire a beauty; but, rather thẽ faile, weele all be suiters to him.

Pray thee Hermogenes

For honour of this Gentlewoman, to whose house, I

know thou maist be euer welcome.

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

VVhat's that?

This Gentlewoman is woing Hermogenes for a song.

A song? Come, he shall not deny her. Hermogenes?

No, the Ladies must doe it, he stayes but to haue their

thankes acknowledg'd as a debt to his cunning.

That shall not want: our selfe will be the first shall pro-

mise 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

intreating 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 Chloë; can he sing excellently?

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

o intreat him to sing.

Heauen and earth! would you tell that?

Good Sir, lets intreat you to vse your voice.

Alas Madam, I cannot in trueth.

The Gentlemans is modest: I warrant you, he singes

excellently.

Hermogenes cleare your throate: I see by him, heer's a

Gentleman will worthily chalenge you.

Not I sir, Ile chalenge no man

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

f your excellency, chalenge him in your behalfe.

I thanke you Gentlemen, Ile doe my best.

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

O, this contention is excellent. VVhat is't you sing Sir?

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

One of your owne compositions, Hermogenes.

He offers you vantage enough.

Nay truely Gentlemen, Ile chalenge 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 Gentlemã

highly deserues it.

Sir, all this doth not yet make me enuy 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 beginne.

VVee shall doe this Gentlemans Banquet too much

wrong, that staies for vs, Ladies:

Tis true: and well thought on, Cornelius Gallus

VVhy 'tis but a short Ayre, 'twill be done presently,

pray' stay; strike Musique.

No, good Hermogenes: we'll end this differẽce within.

Tis the common disease of all your Musitians, that they

knowe no meane, to be intreated, either to begin, or ende.

Please you leade the way, Gentles?

Thankes good Albius

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

Ioue, what a setting forth it is to a man, to haue may Courtiers

com to his house! Sweetly was it said of a good old Houskeeper;

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 cheare, a man can

make them. He that would haue fine Ghestes, let him haue a

fine Wife; he that would haue a fine Wife, let him come to mee

By your kinde leaue, Master Albius

VVhat, you are not gone, Master Crispine?

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

Sir, fashion me an excuse to the Ladies.

VVill you not stay? & see the Iewels, sir? I pray you stay.

Not for a Million Sir, now; Let it suffice, I must relin-

quish; 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 Gyrland: and then Ieweller, looke to

your best Iewel yfaith.

HMH? yes; I will begin an Ode so; & it shall bee to

Mecœnas.

Slid yonders Horace: they say hee's an Excellent

Poet: Mecœnas loues him. Ile fal into his acquain-

tance, if I can; I thinke hee bee composing, as hee goes i'the

streete[unclear] ha? tis a good humor, and hee bee: Ile compose too.

Sweete Horace! Minerua, and the Muses stand auspi-

cious to thy desseignes. How far'st thou sweete man? Frolicke?

rich? gallant? ha?

Not greatly gallant, Sir: like my fortunes; well.

I'm bold to take my leaue Sir, you'ld naught else Sir, wold you?

Troth no; but I could wish thou didst know vs, Ho-

race; we are a Scholer, I assure thee.

A Scholer Sir? I shall be couetous of your faire know-

ledge.

Gramercy good Horace; Nay, we are newe turn'd Po-

et too, which is more; and a Satyrist too, which is more then

that: I write iust in thy vaine, I. I am for your Odes or your

Sermons, or any thing indeede; wee are a Gentleman besides:

our name is Rufus Laberius Crispinus; we are a pretty Stoicke

too.

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

By Phœbus, here's a most neate fine streete; is't not?

I protest to thee, I am enamord of this streete now, more then

of halfe the streetes of Rome, againe; tis so polite, and terse:

Ther's the front of a Building now. I study 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 he sleepes.

I doe make verses, when I come in such a streete as

this: O your Citty-Ladies, you shall ha' hem sit in euery shop

like the Muses,— offring you the Castalian Deawes, and

the Thespian Liquors, to as many as haue but the sweete 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.

Ile tell thee some (if I can but recouer 'hem) I com-

pos'd e'en now of a veluet cap, I saw a Iewellers wife wear; who

indeede was a Iewell her selfe: I prefer that kind of Tire now;

What's thy opinion Horace?

With your siluer Bodkin, it does well, Sir.

I cannot tell, but it stirs me more then all your Court

Curles, or your Spangles, or your Trickes; I affect not these

high Gable ends, these Tuscan tops, nor your

Coronets, nor your Arches, nor your Pyramid's; giue me a fine sweete— little

veluet Cap, with a Bodkin; as you say: and a Mushrome, for all

your other Ornatures.

Ist not possible to make an escape from him?

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

forgot 'hem.

Heres hee, could wish you had else.

Pray Ioue, I can intreat 'hem of my Memory.

You put your Memory to too much trouble, Sir.

No, sweete Horace, we must not ha' thee thinke so.

I cry 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 vnderneath it, I doe obserue; And your ample Vel-

uet hose are not without staines of a hot disposition

Naturally.

O, — Ile dye them into another Colour, at pleasure:

how many yards of Veluet dost thou thinke they conteyne?

'Hart! I haue put him now in a fresh way

To vex me more: Faith Sir, your Mercers booke

Will tell you with more patience, then I can;

For I am crost, and so's note that, I thinke.

'Slight; these Verses haue lost me againe; I shall not

inuite 'hem to minde now.

Racke not your thoughts, good Sir; rather, defer it

To a new Time; Ile meete you at your lodging,

Or where you please: Till then, Iove keep you Sir.

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

(on me.

Yes Sir. Apollo, Hermes, Iupiter, looke downe vp-

s the Paralell to smooth that went before. A kind of Parano-

masy, or Agnomination: doe you conceaue Sir?

Excellent. Troth Sir, I must be abrupt, & leaue you.

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

shalt not goe yet, by Phœbus.

I shall not? what remedy? Fie, how I sweate with

And then ——

(suffering.

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

Yes, doe, good Horace.

Thanke you Sir.

Horace, thou art miserably affected to be gone, I see.

But— Pray thee, lets proue, to enioy thee awhile: Thou hast

no businesse, I assure me: Whether is thy iourney directed? ha?

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

A Friend? Whats he? doe not I know him?

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

worse for him.

What's his Name? wher's he lodg'd?

Where, I shall be fearefull to drawe you out of your

way, Sir; a great way hence; Pray sir, let's part,

Nay, but where ist? I pray thee say.

On the farre side of all Tyber yonder, by Cæsars

Gardens.

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

goe: why standst thou?

Yes Sir: marry the Plague is in that part of the

Citty; I had almost forgot to tell you, Sir.

Fow: It's no matter, I feare no Pestilence, I ha' not of-

fendedPhœbus.

I haue, it seemes; or else this heauy scourge

Could nere haue lighted on me.——

I am to goe downe some halfe mile, this way, Sir,

first; to speake with his Phisitian: And from thence to his Apo-

thecary, where I shall stay the mixing of diuers drugges——

Why, its all one. I haue nothing to doe, and I looue not

to be idle; Ile beare thee company. How call'st thou the Po-

thecary?

O, that I knew a Name would fright him now.

He dwells at the Three Furies, by Ianus Temple?

Your Apothecary does, Sir.

Hart, I owe him Money for sweete meats, and he

has laid to arrest me, I heare: but——

Sir, I haue made a most folemne vow: I will neuer Bayle any man.

Well then, Ile sweare, and speake him faire, if the

worst come. But his Name is Minos, not Rhadamanthus,

Horace.

That may be Sir: I but guest at his name by his Signe.

But your Minos is a Iudge to, Sir?

I protest to thee Horace (doe but tast me once,) if I

oe know my selfe, and mine owne vertues truely, thou wilt

not make that esteeme of Varius, or Virgill, or Tibullus, or any

of 'hem in deed, 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 facility then I; or that

could court his Mistres, kisse her hand, make better sport

with her Fanne, or her Dogge?

I can not Bayle you yet, Sir.

Or that could moue his body more gracefully? or

Dance better? you shoo'd see me, were it not i'the street.

Nor yet.

Why, I haue beene a Reueller, and at my cloth of sil-

uer Sute, and my long stocking, in my Time, and will be a-

gaine——

If you may be trusted, Sir.

And then for my singing, Hermogenes him selfe 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 Fa-

ther is dead?

I, I thanke Ioue, and my Grand-father to, and all my

kinsfolkes, and well compos'd in their Graues.

The more their happinesse; that rest in peace,

Free from th'aboundant torture of thy tongue;

Would I were with them too.

What's that, Horace?

Tut, tut: abandon, this idle humor, 'tis nothing but

Melancholy. Fore Ioue, now I thinke ont, I am to appeare in

Court here, to answere to one that has me in suite: sweete Ho-

race goe with me; this is my howre: if I neglect it, the Law

proceedes against me: Thou art familiar with these thinges;

pray thee, if thou louest me, goe.

Tis true:——

I hope the howre of my release be come: He will

(vpon this Consideration) discharge me sure.

roth, I am doubtfull, what I may best doe; whether

to leaue thee, or my affaires, Horace?

O Iupiter, me Sir; me, by any meanes: I beseech

you, me, Sir.

No faith, Ile 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 ouercomes 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 choise spirits, and of the

first ranke of Romanes: I doe not know that Poet, I protest, ha's

vsd his Fortune more prosperously then thou hast. If thou

would'st bring me knowne to Mecœnas, I should second thy

desert well; Thou shouldst find a good sure Assistance of me:

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 Fauor, both Virgill, Varius,

and the best of them; and enioy him wholly to our selues.

You report a wonder! tis scarce credible, this.

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

Why, this enflames me with a more ardent desire to

be his, then before: but, I doubt I shall find the entrance to his

Familiarity, somewhat 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

Importunacy, 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 me that way first: and

then, I'le obserue my times. Say, he should extrude me his

house to day; shall I therefore desist, or let fall my suite tomor-

row? No: I'le attend him, follow him, meete him i'the streete,

the high waies, runne by his Coach, neuer leaue him. What?

“Man hath nothing giuen him, in this life, without much

Labor.

HOrace. Well met.

O welcome my Redeemer.

Aristius, as thou louest me, Ransome me.

What aylst thou, man?

'Death, I am seazd on here

By a Land-Remora, I cannot stirr;

Not moue, but as he please.

Wilt thou goe, Horace?

Yes, I will: but I'le goe first, and tell Mecœnas.

Come, shall we goe?

The iest will make his eyes runne, yfaith.

Nay, Aristius?

Farewell, Horace.

'Death! will a' leaue me? Fuscus Aristius, doe you

heare? Gods of Rome, you said you had somewhat to say to

me in priuate.

I, but I see, you are now imployd with that Gentle-

man: 'twere sinne to trouble you. I'le take some fitter opportu-

nity, adue.

THat's he, in the imbrodered hat, there, with the Ash

colourd Fether: his name is Liberius Crispinus.

Liberius Crispinus; I arrest you in the Emperors name.

Me Sir? doe you arrest mee?

I Sir, at the suite of Master Minos the Apothecary.

Thankes, greate Apollo: I will not slippe thy fauour of-

fered me in my escape, for my fortunes.

Master Minos? I know no Master Minos. Where's

Horace? Horace? Horace?

Sir, doe not you knowe mee?

O yes; I knowe you, Master Minos: 'cry you mercie.

But Horace? Gods 'Slid, is he gone?

I, and so would you too, if you knewe how. Officer looke to him.

Doe you heare, Master Minos? pray' let's be vs'd like

a man of our owne fashion. By Ianus and Iupiter, I meant

to haue payed you next weeke, euery Drachme. Seeke not to ec-

clipse my reputation thus vulgarly.

Sir, your oathes cannot serue you; you knowe I haue

forborne you long.

I am conscious of it, Sir. Nay, I beseech you, Gentle-

men, doe not exhale me thus; remember 'tis but for sweete

meates——

Sweete meate must haue sower sauce, Sir. Come along.

Sweete Master Minos: I am forfeited to eternall dis-

grace, if you doe not commiferate. Good officer bee not so

officious.

VVhy how now, my good brace of Blood-hounds?

whether doe you dragge the Gent'man? you

Mungrelles, you Curres, you Bandogges, wee are Captaine Tucca, that talke

to you, you inhumane Pilchers.

Sir, he is their prisoner.

Their Pestilence. VVhat are you, sir?

A Citizen of Rome, sir.

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

A Pothecary, sir.

I knewe that was not a Phisitian; fough: out of my

Nostrils, thou stinkst of Lotium, & the Syrringe; away Quack-

saluer; Follower, my sworde.

Here, noble Leader, youle do no harme with it: Ile trust

you.

Doe you heare, You, Goodman slaue? Hooke, Ramme,

Rogue, Catchpole, loose the Gent'man, or by my veluet

armes——

What will you doe, sir?

Kisse thy hande, my honourable actiue Varlet: & im-

brace thee, thus.

O Patient Metamorphosis!

My sworde, my tall Rascall.

Nay, softe sir; Some wiser then some.

VVhat? and a Wit to? By Pluto, thou must be cherish-

ed, Slaue; heres three Drachmes for thee: hold.

There's halfe his Lendings gone.

Giue mee.

No sir, your first word shall stand: Ile holde all.

Nay, but Rogue:

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

I, a rescue? away inhumane Varlet. Come, come; I ne-

uer relish aboue one Iest at most; doe not disgeste me: Sirra, do

not. Rogue, I tell thee, Rogue, doe not.

How sir? Rogue?

I, why; thou art not angry Rascall? art thou?

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

Ha! Gods & Feinds! why dost hear? Rogue, Thou, giue me

thy hand; I say vnto thee, thy hand: Rogue. what? dost not

thou know mee? not me, Rogue? not Captaine Tucca, Rogue?

Come: pra' surrender the Gentleman his sword, Offi-

cer; we'll haue no fighting here.

VVhat's thy name?

Minos, an't please you.

Minos? come hyther, Minos; Thou art a wise Fel-

lowe 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?

Noe indeede, Master Captaine.

Goe to, thou shallt be then: Ile ha' thee one, Minos.

Take my sworde from those Rascalles, dost thou see? Goe, do it;

I cannot attempt with patience. VVhat does this Gentle-

man owe thee, little Minos?

Fourescore Sesterties, sir.

VVhat? no more? Come, thou shalt release him, Minos:

what, Ile be his Bayle, thou shalt take my worde, Old boy, and

Casheere these Furies: thou shalt do't, I say thou shalt, little Mi-

nos, thou shalt.

Yes, and as I am a Gentleman and a Reueller, Ile

make a peece of Poetry and absolue all, within these fiue

daies.

Come, Minos is not to learne how to vse a Gent'man

of qualitie, I know; My sworde: If he pay thee not, I will, and I

must, old boy. Thou shalt be my Pothecary too: ha'st good E-

ringo's, Minos?

The best in Rome, sir.

Goe too, then Vermine, knowe the house.

I warrant you Collonell.

For this Gentleman, Minos?

Ile take your word, Captaine.

Thou hast it, my sword.

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

spinus.

How, Minos? looke in the Gentlemans face, and but

eade his silence. Pay, pay; 'tis honour, Minos.

By Ioue, sweete Captaine, you do most infinitely en-

deare, and oblige me to you.

Tut, I cannot complement, by Mars; but Iupiter loue

me, as I loue good wordes, & good cloathes, and there's an end.

Thou shalt giue my boy that girdle & hangers, when thou hast

worne them a little more.

O Iupiter! Captaine, he 'shall haue them now, present-

ly; Please you to be acceptiue, young Gentleman.

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

lish humor of taking, if you knewe all.

Not now, you shall not take, boy.

By my truth, and earnest, but a' shal Captaine, by your leaue.

Nay, and a' sweare by his trueth, take it boy: doe not

make a Gentleman for sworne.

Well sir, there is your sworde; but thanke Master Mi-

nos: 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

and I doe loue the Varlettes, the honest Var-

lets; they haue Wit, and Valor, and are indeede good profitable

— Arrant Rogues, as any liue in an Empire. Doest thou hear,

Poetaster? second me. Stand vp; Minos, close, gather, yet; so. Sir,

(thou shalt haue a quarter share, be resolute) you shal 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? wee must liue and

honour the Gods sometimes; now Bacchus, now Comus, now

Priapus; euery God a little. What's hee, that stalkes by, there?

Boy, Pyrgus, you were best let him passe, Sirrah; do Leueret, let

him passe, doe.

Tis a Player, sir.

A Player? Call him, call the lowsie slaue hither; what'l

hee saile by, and not once strike, or vaile to a Man of warre?

ha? doe you heare? you, Player, Rogue, Stalker, come back here:

No respect to Men of worshippe, you slaue? What, you are

ptoude, you Rascall, are you proude? ha? you growe rich, doe

you? and purchase? you haue Fortune & the good yeere on your

side, you Stinkard? you haue? you haue?

Nay, sweete Captaine, be confinde to some reason; I protest. I

sawe you not, sir.

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

with Hares eyes, doe you? Ile ha' 'hem glas'd, Rogue; and you

say the worde, 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 knowe vs; you'll see vs then; you

will, Gulch, you will? Then; wil't please your worshippe to haue

any Musicke, Captaine?

Nay, good Captaine.

What? doe you laugh, Howleglas? 'death, you per-

stemptuous Varlet, I am none of your fellowes; I haue com-

maunded a hundred and fiftie such Rogues, I.

I, and most of that hundred and fiftie haue been lea-

ders of a Legion.

If I haue exhibited wrong, I'le tender satisfaction, Cap-

(taine.

Say'st thou so, honest Vermine? Giue me thy hand, thou

shalt make vs a supper one of these nights.

VVhen you please, by Ioue, Captaine, most wil-

lingly.

Doest thou[unclear]sweare? Tomorrowe then; say, and holde

slaue. There are some of you Players honest Gent'man-like

Scoundrels: A man may skelder yee, now and than, of halfe a

dozen shillinges, or so. Doest thou not know that Caprichio

there?

No, I assure you, Captaine.

Goe, and be 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 newe stalking straine;

bigger then halfe the Rimers i'the towne againe: he was borne

to fill thy mouth, Minotaurus; he was: he 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: hee shall write for thee, slaue. If hee penne

for thee once, thou shalt not neede to trauell, with thy

pumpes full of grauell, any more, after a blinde Iade and a

Hamper.

Troth, I thinke I ha' not so much about mee, Cap-

( reg="Captaine">taine.

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

giue my word for the rest: though it lack a shilling or two, it

skilles not: Go, thou art an honest Twentie i'the hundred; I'le ha'

the Statute repeal'd for thee, Minos: I must tel thee, Minos, thou

hast deiected yon' Gent'mans spirit exceedingly: do'st obserue?

do'st note, little Minos?

Goe to then, raise; recouer; do; suffer him not to droop,

in prospect of a Player, a Rogue, a Stager: put twentie into his

hand; twentie; Drachmes, I meane, and let no bodie see: goe,

doe it; the worke shall commend it selfe: be Minos: I'le

pay.

Yes forsooth, Captaine.

Doe not wee serue a not able Sharke?

And what newe Playes haue you now a foote, sirrah?

ha? I would faine come with my Cockatrice one day, and see

a Play; if I knewe when there were a good baudie one: but

they say, you ha' nothing but Humours, Reuels, 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:

wee haue as much Ribaldry in our Plaies, as can bee, as you would wish, Captaine: All

the sinners, i' the Suburbes, come, and applaud our Action,

daily.

I heare, you'll bring mee o' the Stage there; you'll

play mee, they say: I shall bee presented by a sorte of

Copper-lac't Scoundrels of you: Death of Pluto, and you

Stage mee, Stinkard; your Mansions shall sweate for't,

your Tabernacles, Varlettes: your Globes: and your Try-

umphes.

Not wee, by Phoebus, Captaine: doe not doe vs im-

putation without desert.

I woo not, my good two pennie Rascall: reach me

thy neufe. Do'st heare? What wilt thou giue me 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 Darius dolefull straine.

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

thine eares, Stinkard: the Ghost, Boyes.

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

I, but some bodie must cry murder, then, in a

small voice.

Your fellowe Sharer, there, shall do't; Cry Sirrah, cry.

Sirrah, Boy, brace your drumme a little straighter, and

doe the t'other fellowe there, hee in the— what sha' call

im— and yet, stay too.

Why then lament therefore: damn'd be thy Guts vnto

King Plutoes hell, and Princely Erebus; for Sparrowes must

haue food.

'Pray, sweete Captaine, let one of them doe a little

of a Lady.

O! he will make thee eternally enamourd of him

there: doe Sirrah; doe: 'twill allay your fellowes Fury a little.

No: you shall see me doe the Moore: Master,

lend me your scarfe 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, Cap-

taine?

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

ou'll sell 'hem for Enghles you; let's ha' good cheare tomor-

row night at supper, Stalker, and then wee'll talke, good Capon,

& Plouer, do you hear, Sirrah? & do not bring your eating Plaier

with you there; I cannot away with him: He will eate a legge

of mutton, while I am in my porridge, the leane Poluphagus,

his belly is like Barathrum, he lookes like a Midwife in Mans

apparrell, the slaue; nor the villanous-out-of-tune Fidler O Eno-

barbus, bring not him. What hast thou there? six and thirty?

ha?

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

'Pray Sir, will you present, & accommodate it vnto the Gentle-

man: for mine owne part, I am a meere stranger to his Hu-

mour: besides, I haue some businesse inuites me hence, with

Master Asinius Lupus, the Tribune.

Well: goe thy waies; pursue thy Proiects, let me

alone with this Desseigne: my Poëtaster shall make thee a Play,

& thou shalt be a man of good parts, in it. But stay, let me see:

Doe not bring your Father AEsope, your Polititian; vnlesse you

can ramme vp his mouth with Cloues: the slaue smells ran-

ker then some sixteene Dung-hilles, and is seuenteene times

more rotten: Mary, you may bring Friskin, 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 roare out his

barren bold Iestes, with a tormenting Laughter, betweene

drunke and dry. Doe you heare, Rascall? Giue him warning,

Admonition, to forsake his sawcy glauering Grace, and his

goggle Eye: it does not become him, Sirrah: tell him so.

Yes Captaine: Iupiter, 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 cloake,

like a Motion? ha?

O Sir, his dubblet's a little decayed; he is otherwise

a very simple honest fellow, Sir: one Demetrius, a dresser of

Playes about the towne, here; we haue hir'd him to abuse

Horace, and bring him in, in a Play, with all his Gallants: as, Ti-

bullus, Mecœnas, Cornelius Gallus, and the rest.

And: why so, Stinkard?

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

and we haue neede on't; for this Winter ha's made vs all poo-

rer, then so many staru'd Snakes: No body comes at[unclear: .] 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 inough:

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

Can thy Author doe it impudently enough?

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

he ha's one of the most ouerflowing villanous 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 such 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 ragges; 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 me.

Yes, Sir.

Twas well done little Minos: thou didst stalke well:

for-giue me that I said thou stunkst, Minos: 'twas the sauour

of a Poet, I met sweating in the streete, hanges yet in my

nostrills:

Who? Horace?

I; he, do'st thou know him?

O, he forsooke me most barbarously, I protest.

Hang him fusty Satyre; he smells all Goate; he

carries a Ram, vnder his Arme-holes, the slaue: I am the worse

when I see him. Did not Minos impart?

Yes, here's twenty Drachmes, he did conuey.

Well said, keepe 'hem, weell share anon; come

little Minos.

Faith Captaine, I'le be bould to shew you a Mistres of

mine, a Iewellers Wife, a Gallant, as we goe along.

There spoke my Genius. Minos, some of thy Erin-

goes, little Minos; send: come hither Parnassus. I must ha

thee familiar with my little Locust, here; tis a good Vermine

they say.

BVT sweete Lady, say: am I well inough attir'd for

the Court, in sadnesse?

Well inough? excellent well, sweete

This straight-bodied Citty attire (I can tell

you) will stirre a Courtiers blood, more, then the finest loose

Sackes the Ladies vse to be put in; and then you are as well

Iewelld as any of them; your Ruffe, and linnen about you, is

much more pure then theirs: And for your beauty, I can tell

you, there's many of them would defie the Painter, if they could

change with you. Marry, the worst is, you must looke to be

enuied, and endure a few Court-frumps for it.

O God! 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 Hercules! Why, you shall see 'hem flocke a-

bout you with their puffe wings, and aske you, where you

ought your Lawne? and what you paid for it? Who starches

you? and entreat you to helpe 'hem to some pure Landresses,

out of the City.

O, Cupid! Giue me my Fanne, and my Masque too:

And wil the Lords, and the Poets there, vse one well too, Lady?

Doubt not of that: you shall haue kisses from

them, goe pit-pat, pit-pat, pit-pat, vpon your Lips, as thicke

as stones out of slings, at the assault of a Citty. And then your

Eaars the be so surd with the the breath of their Complements,

that you cannot catch cold of your head (if you would) in three

Winters after.

Thanke you, sweete Lady. O Heauen! And how

must one behaue her selfe amongst 'hem? you know all.

Faith, impudently inough, Mistresse Chloë, & well

inough. Cary not too much vnder-thought betwixt yourselfe

and them; nor your Citty 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 Lady: 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 intollerable Iupiter! By my troth Lady, I would

not for a world, but youhad lyen in my house: and i'faith you

shall not pay a farthing, for your boord; nor your Chambers.

O sweete Mistresse Chloë!

I faith, you shall not Lady; nay good Lady, 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 Entertainment is now to be re-

quited with a Heauenly Banquet.

A Heauenly Banquet, Gallus?

No lesse, my deare, Cytheris.

That were not strange, Lady, if the Epithete were

onely giuen for the Company muited thither; your selfe, and

this faire Gentlewoman.

Are we inuited to Court, Sir?

You are Lady, by the great Princesse Iulia; who longs

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

often Courtier.

In sincerity, I thanke her, Sir. You haue a Coach? ha'

you not?

The Princesse hath sent her owne, Lady.

O Venus! that's well: I doe long to ride in a Coach

most vehemently.

But sweete Gallus, pray you, resolue me, why you

giue that heauenly praise, to this earthly Banquet?

Because (Cytheris) it must be celebrated by the

heauenly powers: All the Gods, and Goddesses will be there; to

two of which, you two must be exalted.

A fiction indeed Chloë, and fit, for the fit of a Poet.

Why, Cytheris, may not Poets (from whose di-

uine spirits, all the honors of the Gods haue beene deduc't) in-

treat so much honor of the Gods, to haue their diuine presence

at a Poëticall Banquet?

Suppose that no fiction: yet, where are your Ha-

bilities to make vs two Goddesses, at your Feast?

Who knowes not (Cytheris) that the sacred

breath of a true Poet, can blow any vertuous Humanity, vp to

Deity?

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 Deify them selues: At this Banquet, to which you are inui-

ted, we intend to assume the figures of the Gods; and to giue

our seuerall Loues the Formes of Goddesses. Ouid, will be Iupi-

ter: the Princesse Iulia, Iuno: Gallus here Apollo; you Cytheris,

Pallas: I will be Bacchus, and my Loue Plautia, Ceres. And to

install you, and your Husband, faire Chloë, in honors, equall

with ours; you shall be a Goddesse, and your Husband a God.

A God? ô my God!

A God; but a lame God, Lady: for he shall be Vul-

can, and you Venus. And this will make our Banquet no lesse

then heauenly.

In sincerity, it will be sugred. Good Ioue, what a pret-

ty foolish thing it is to be a Poet! But harke you, sweete Cythe-

ris; could they not possibly leaue out my Husband? me 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, Chloë: 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! Welcom.

Gentlemen, heare you the newes?

What newes, my Quintus?

Nay, good Master Crispinus; Pray you bring neere

he Gentleman.

Crispinus? Hide me, good Gallus; Tibullus shelter

(me.

Make your approach, sweete Captaine.

What meanes this, Horace?

I am surpriz'd againe; Farewell.

Stay, Horace.

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

Phœbus defend me.

'Slight! I hold my life,

This same is he met him in Via sacra.

Troth, 'tis like enough. This Act of Propertiusre-

lisheth very strange, with me.

By thy leaue, my neat Scoundrell: what, is this the

mad Boy you talk't on?

I: this is Master Albius, Captaine.

Giue me thy hand, Agamemnon; we heare abroad,

thou art the Hector of Citizens: what sayest thou? are we wel-

come to thee, noble Pyrrhus?

Welcome, Captaine? by Ioue and all the Gods

i'the Capitoll.

No more, we conceaue thee. Which of these is thy Wedlocke, Menelaus? thy

Hellen? thy Lucrece? that we may

doe her honor; mad Boy?

She i'the little veluet Cap, Sir; is my Mistres.

A better, prophane Rascall? I cry thee mercy (my

good Scroile) was't thou?

No harme, Captaine.

Shee is a Venus, a Vesta, a Melpomene: Come hi-

therPenelope; what's thy name, Iris?

My name is Chloë, Sir; I am a Gentlewoman.

Thou art in merit to be an Empresse (Chloë) for an

Eye, and a Lip; thou hast an Emperors Nose: kisse me againe:

tis a vertuous Punque, So. Before Ioue, the Gods were a sort of

Goslinges, when they suffred so sweete a breath, to perfume the

bed of a stinkard: thou hadst ill fortune, Thisbe; the Fates

were infatuate; they were, Punque; they were.

That's sure, Sir; let me craue your Name, I pray you,

(Sir.

I am know'n by the Name of Captaine Tucca,

Punque: the noble Romane, Punque: a Gent'man, and a Com-

maunder, Punque.

In good time: a Gentleman, and a Commaunder? that's

as good as a Poet?

A prety instrument: It's my Cosen Cytheris Viole,

this: ist not?

Nay, play Cosen; it wants but such a voice, and

hand, to grace it, as yours is.

Alas Cosen, you are merily inspir'd.

'Pray you play, if you loue me.

Yes cosin: you knowe, I doe not hate you.

A most subtil wench! How she hath bayted him with

a Viole yonder, for a songe!

Cosin, 'pray you call Mistresse Chloë; she shall heare

an Essay of my Poetry.

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

thee vp, my sweet Punque; set thee vp.

Are you a Puet, so soone, Sir?

Wife: mum

O, most odoriferous Musicke!

A, ha; Stinkard. Another Orpheus, you slaue, another

Orpheus; an Arion, riding on the backe of a Dolphin, Ras-

call.

Haue you a Copie of this Dittie, Sir?

Master Albius ha's.

I, but in trueth, they are my Wiues Verses; I must not

shewe 'hem.

Shewe 'hem Bankerupt, shew 'hem; they haue salt in

hem, and will brooke the ayre, Stinkard.

How? to his bright mistresse, Canidia?

I, sir, that's but a borrowed name; as Ouids Corinna, or

Propertius his Cynthia, or your Nemesis, or Delia, Tibullus.

It's the name of Horace his Witch, as I remember.

VVhy? the Ditt'is all borrowed; 'tis Horaces: hang him

Plagiary.

How? he borrowe of Horace? he shall pawne himselfe

to ten Brokers, first. Doe you heare, Poëtasters? I knowe you

to be Knightes, and men of worshippe. Hee shall write with

Horace, for a Talent: and let Mecœnas and his whole Col-

ledge of Critickes take his part: thou shalt do't young Phœ-

bus: thou shalt, Phaeton; thou shalt.

Alas, sir, Horace? he is a meere spunge; nothing but.

Humours and Obseruation; he goes vp and down sucking from

euery societie; and when he comes home, squeazes himselfe

dry againe. I knowe him, I.

Thou sayest true, my poore Poeticall Furie, he will pen

all he knowes. A sharpe thorny-tooth'd Satyricall Rascall, flye

him; He carries Haye in his horne; he will sooner loose his best

friend, then his least Ieast. VVhat he once drops vpon paper, a-

gainst a man, liues eternally to vpbraide him in the mouth of e-

uery slaue Tankerd-bearer, or Water-man: not a Baud, or a

boy that comes from the bake house, but shall point at him:

'tis all Dogge, and Scorpion; hee carries poyson in his teeth,

and a sting in his taile; fough. Bodie of Ioue! I'le haue the slaue

whipt one of these daies for his Satyres, and his Humours, by

one casheer'd Clarke, or another.

We'll vndertake him, Captaine.

I, and tickle him i'faith, for his Arrogancie, and his impudence, in commending his

owne thinges: and for his trã-

slating: I can trace him i'faith: ô, he is the most open fellowe,

liuing; I had as lieue as a newe Suite, I were at it.

Say no more then, but doe it: 'tis the onely way to get

thee a newe suite: sting him, my little Neufts; I'le giue you in-

structions: I'le be your Intelligencer, wee'll all ioyne, and hange

vpon him like so many horseleaches: the Players and all.

Wee shall suppe togither soone; and then weele conspire, i'-

faith.

O, that Horace had stayed still, here.

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

thagoreans then.

What, mute?

I, as fishes i'faith: come Ladies, shall wee goe?

VVee await you, sir. But Mistresse Chloë askes, if you

haue not a God to spare, for this Gentleman.

VVho, Captaine Tucca?

I; hee.

Yes, if wee can inuite him along, he shall be Mars

Ha's Mars any thing to doe with Venus?

O, most of all, Ladie.

Nay, then I pray' let him be inuited: and what shall

Crispinus be?

Mercury, Mistresse Chloë.

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

No Ladie; but somewhat enclyning that way: hee is

a Herald at Armes.

A Herald at Armes? good: and Mercury? pretty: he

ha's to doe with Venus too?

A little, with her face, Ladie; or so.

'Tis verie well; pray let's goe, I long to bee at it.

Gentlemen, shall wee pray your companies a-

long?

You shall not onely pray, but preuaile, Ladie. Come,

> sweete Captaine.

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

little Bankeroupt.

Captaine, looke here: mum.

I'le goe write, sir.

Doe, doe: stay; there's a Drachme, to purchase Gin-

ger-bread, for thy Muse.

Come, let vs talke here; here wee may be priuate: shut

the dore, Lictor. You are a Player, you say.

I, and't please your worshippe.

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

Mary Sir, they directed a Letter to mee, and my fellow

Sharers.

peake lower; you are not now i'your Theater, Sta-

ger: my sword Knaue. They directed a letter to you, and your

fellow-Sharers: forward.

Yes, sir; to hyre some of our Properties; as a Scepter,

and a Crowne, for Ioue; and a

Caduceus, for Mercury: and a Petasus—

Caduceus? and Petasus? Let mee see your Letter.

This is a Coniuration; a Conspiracy, this. Quickly, on with my

Buskins: I'le act a Tragedy, i'faith. Will nothing but our Gods,

serue these Poets to prophane?dispatch. Player, I thanke thee.

The Emperour shal 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.

VVhat tell'st thou mee of Pothecaries, Knaue? Tell

him, I haue affaires of State, in hand; I can talke to no Pothe-

caries, now.  

Heart of mee! Stay the Pothecary there.

You shall see, I haue fish't out a cunning piece of Plot now;

They haue had some intelligẽce, that their Proiect is discouer'd,

and now haue they dealt with my Pothecary, to poyson mee;

tis so; knowing, that I meant to take Physick to day: As sure as

Death, 'tis there. Iupiter, I thanke thee, that thou hast yet

made mee so much of a Polititian. You are welcome, sir; Take

the potió fró him there; I haue an Antidote more then you wote

of, Sir; Throw it on the ground there: So. Now fetch in the

Dogge; And yet wee cannot tarry to try Experiments, now:

Arrest him, you shall goe with mee, sir; I'le tickle you Potheca-

ry; I'le giue you a Glyster, i'faith. Haue I the Letter? I: 'tis here.

Come, your Fasces, Lictors: The halfe pikes, & the Halberds,

take them downe from the Lares, there; Player, assist mee.

Whether now, Asinius Lupus, with this Armory?

I cannot talke now; I charge you assist mee: Treason,

Treason,

How? Treason?

I: if you loue the Emperour, and the State, followe me.

Gods, and goddesses, take your seuerall seates. Now,

Mercury, mooue your Caduceus, and in Iupiters name com-

maunde silence.

In the name of Iupiter; Silence.

The Crier of the Court hath too clarified a voice.

Peace Momus.

Oh, he is the god of Reprehension; let him alone. 'Tis

his office. Mercury, goe forward; and proclaime after Phœbus,

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 Mattery Sentences, Momus; they are to

graue, and wise, for this meeting.

Mercury, giue our Ieaster a stoole, let him sit by; and

reach him of our Cates.

Do'st heare, Mad Iupiter? VVe'll haue it enacted; He, that

speaks the first wise word, shall be made Cuckold. VVhat sayst

thou? Is't not a good Motion?

Deities, are you all agreed?

Agreed, great Iupiter.

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, & make him Cuckold, quickly.

Come, Cocatrice.

No: let me alone with him, Iupiter: I'le make you

take heede, 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 indeede, wife, hereafter;

I'le be here: mum.

Fill vs a bowle of Nectar, Ganymede: we will drinke

to our daughter Venus.

Looke to your wife, Vulcan: Iupiter begins to Court her.

Nay, let Mars looke to it: Vulcan must do as Venus

doe's, beare.

Sirrah, Boy: Catamite. Looke you play Ganymede well

now, you slaue: Doe not spill your Nectar; Carry your Cuppe

euen: so. You should haue rubd your Face, with whites of

Egges, you Rascall; till your Browes had shone like our sootie

brothers here, as sleeke as a Horne-booke: or ha' steept your

lips in wine, till you made 'hem so Plumpe, that Iuno might

haue beene Iealous of 'hem. Punque, kisse mee, Punque.

Here daughter Venus, I drinke to thee.

'Thanke you, good Father Iupiter.

Why, Mother Iuno! Gods and Fiends! what, wilt

thou suffer this ocular Temptation?

Mars is enrag'd; he lookes bigge, and begins to stut, for

(anger.

VVell plaide, Captaine Mars.

VVellsaid, Minstrell Momus: I must put you in? must I?

When will you be in good fooling of your selfe, Fidler? neuer?

O, 'tis our fashion, to be silent, when there is a better

Foole in place, euer.

'Thanke you, Rascall.

Fill to our daughter Venus, Ganymede; who fils her fa-

ther with affection.

VVilt thou be raunging, Iupiter, before my face?

VVhy not, Iuno? why should Iupiter, stand in awe of

thy Face, Iuno?

Because it is thy wiues Face, Iupiter.

What, shall a Husband be afraid of his wiues Face? will

shee paint it so horribly? Wee are a King, Cotqueane; and wee

will raigne in our pleasures; & we will cudgell thee to death,

if thou finde fault with vs.

I will finde 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 Poëts, that

knowe our Prophanenesse, liue as prophane, as wee: By my

God-head, Iupiter; I will ioyne with all the other Gods, here;

binde thee hand and foote; throwe thee downe into earth; and

make a poore Poët of thee, if thou abuse me thus.

A good smart-tongu'd Goddesse; a right Iuno.

Iuno, wee will cudgell thee, Iuno: wee tolde thee

so yesterday, when thou wert iealous of vs, for Thetis.

Nay, to day she had me in Inquisition too.

VVell saide, my fine Phrygian Fry, informe, informe.

Giue mee some wine, King of Heralds; I may drinke to my

Cocatrice.

No more, Ganymede; wee will cudgell thee, Iuno:

(By Styx, we will.

I'ts well; Gods may growe impudent in Iniquitie, and

they must not be tolde of it.

Yea, wee will knocke our Chinne against our Brest;

and shake thee out of Olimpus, into an Oyster-boate, for thy

scoulding.

Your Nose is not long enough to doe it, Iupiter; if all

thy Strumpets, thou hast among the Starres tooke thy part.

And there is neuer a Star in thy Forehead, but shal be a Home,

if thou persist to abuse mee.

A good Ieast, I'faith.

We tell thee, thou angerst vs, Cotqueane; and we

will thunder thee in peeces, for thy Cotqueanity: we will lay

this City desolate, and flat as this hand, for thy offences. These

two fingers are the Walls of it; these within, the People;

which People, shall be all throwne downe thus, and nothing

left standing in this Citty, but these walls.

Another good Iest.

O, my hammers, and my Cyclops! this Boy fils not

wine enough, 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 togither. Here Father: here Mother: for shame,

drinke your selues drunke, and forget this dissention: you two

should cling togither, before our faces, and giue vs example of

Vnity.

O, excellently spoken, Vulcan, on the sodaine!

Iupiter, may doe well to preferre his Tongue to some

office, for his Eloquence.

His Tongue shall be Gent'man Vsher to his Wit, and

still goe before it.

An excellent fit office.

I, and an excellent good ieast, besides:

What, haue you hired Mercury, to cry your ieastes

you make?

Momus, you are enuious:

Why, you whoreson block-head,'tis your only blocke

of witte in fashion (now adaies) to applaud other folkes ieastes.

True: with those that are not Artificers themselues.

Vulcan, you nod; and the mirth of the feast droopes.

He ha's fild Nectar so long, till his braine swimmes

in it.

What, doe we nod, fellow Gods? sound Musicke,

and let vs startle our spirits with a song.

Your belly weighes downe your head, Bacchus: here's a song toward.

I like not this sodaine and generall heauinesse, a-

mongst our Godheads: Tis somewhat ominous. Apollo,

Command vs lowder Musicke, and let Mercury, and Momus

contend to please, and reuiue our senses.

'Pray Iupiter, we be not follow'd by the sent, Ma-ster.