GARLAND

Why dost not answer me? I will thrash them straight With good strong Beer, one cup will do no harm. What rhyming so early, and thine eyes not Washed yet: but where is Younger Harmants ? Where's his Companion, Sergeant Goodfellow ? What both. Not else. Where didst thou learn such high stilde compliments? How now turned Poet, or turned Conjurer; Stares not mine hair: shall I be scarred hence: I'll make a circle least Hobgoblin come, Of thine own making sure, they do so well Concur in sweetest Diapason. Read thou my riddle, & take thou my fiddle I met a man that wept and wailde, I grieved to see him how he aylde; He fared strangely, in such taking; He said he was not of Gods making. Oh brains of a Burbate, wool of and Owl: Where hadst thou so much wit? now tell me thine. Go seek my brother out, and then I will, Show thee the way, and give thee thy desire. Go to the Sergeant, I dare warrant thee, And tell him that I stay to speak with him. Deed, Pasquill and I have been rhyming. For Horsemen tooth and nail. Let Pasquill seek him. Be not so angry brother, I protest, I laugh not at you, but at Pasquill, what Said he to you, what message did he bring? But whither is he gone? So now the game begins: fly to him, give Him not one ynche, let him wear gold that wins It first: shrink back, I will never own thee For a Sergeant. 'Tis well said Sergeant, I am on thy side, I'll bear thee witness they are thine by right. A good conceit, for now me thinks I see, The Sergeant Ensign, only in conceit Stepped up in place, and office of command; I see, but see not, what I hope to see; That once performed which now is but conceit. Sure that I would; Thou shouldst not want to furnish thy conceits; If I have gold and silver at command, 'Tis ready: Sergeant I would do thee good; Get thou a place, try thy friends, thou shalt see What I will do. Let thee alone Sergeant, thou wilt be Like To Pasquill, wild as a Buck, or Liueret Bred in March: this or be it not contains thee When thy brains flow with skilful Poesy; Hast thou forgotten what we came hither for. Upon mine honest word, I will. Go fetch thy gloves, isle see the Glover paid: Brother, 'tis lost, you shall pay me again. Yea, thats well said; That can was well. It shall be done, what is't? A pair of Garters. Thou make a verse, then isle bake in a well. I'll not believe you, I will have it scande, Let them that know speak true: is it good French. Spare so much courtesy, lest we suspect Some hidden craft. Fly to him Sergeant, I will take thy partly, To serve on horseback, is best service still, I will maintain it, while I live one day. Nor I, nor he, but with as good a will, As ere I came from School, with leave to play. As how good brother, I desire to hear: This likes me well: mine host I drink to you. What? would you have no Horsemen then, What did the horsemen there, did none escape? This likes me well, but ere you do proceed, I'll drink to you: now am I for the foot, Heeres to you all, my noble Fantassines. He pays you Sergeant now, you're well most gone. Come I'll go home, I'll stay no longer here. This Beer hath pepper, it begins to bite. Why, this was strange, O fie on perjury, I'll not believe spensations of the Pope, Had that foul Cardinal, choked in's mother's womb, This shameful lose had escaped Christendom. I care not, soes not I. Filt up, drinkte out, you are and honest man. How dost Pasquill, perceivest thou nothing yet. You can endure the smell sir? He hath drild us both, & mocks us to our teeth What shall we do with him? weel' canvas him. Let him alone & he'll maintain't with oaths. Rhyming again, I'll deal no more with you; I had enough of late, I paid too deer For your conceits, I'll have no more of them. Scarce run, scarce go, this barreled Sturgeon Is out of breath, his greace begins to melt. A child of two year old would run as fast. Why, how Flutterkin, at your Brande-wine ? I pray thee give me some. But here's the difference; for we use to say, Is such one Knighted? he deserved it well; He's learned, wise, and hopeful Gentleman; Hath been abroad, hath seen and knows the wars: He speaks more language then his mother's tongue, He can doe's country service, or his Prince At home, abroad by Sea, or else by land, Maintain the sword of civil government: But such ones made a Knight: What that Arch-Clowne! His wit is Like his mother's milking pail: Brought up at home, or at Hogsnorton School: His Father near gave arms, writ goodman Cluneh, And he kept sheep, or beasts, drove plough or cart: The first on's name, first Knight, then Gentleman. God give him joy; his honour cost him deer: A sot in Crimson, grown a golden Knight; Well may'te become him, he becomes not it: More then and Ass, a rich caparison. Indeed thats true, for he may have a Son, Whose better breeding may help those defects, That beins father; may be fit to rule, The Sword of Justice in a commonwealth, Raiseth his house and name, sets it higher, Writes second Knight, a Justice, or Esquire. Oh Heavens! why made you night to cover sin? Had it been day, such things had never been. Good morrow Sergeant, dreaming, yet not waked You are mistaken man, you see not well, Such ware's not dainty, though you think it deer, Where is enough, and market all the year. Why then your Captains piece is half consumed By this; if he have God such company. Why then two cans of your best English beer