DEMETRIUS

Flaccus. I, and a Hodgshead too of your own, but that will never be scoured clean I fear. I thank you good for your love, I fildome take that Physic, 'tis enough Having so much fool to take him in snuff. If you swear, dam me Faninus, or Crispinus, Or to the law ( Our kingdoms golden chain ) To Poets dam me, or to Players dam me, If I brand you, or you, tax you, scourge you: I wonder then, that of five hundred, four hundred five, Should all point with their fingers in one instant At one and the same man? Come, you cannot excuse it. You must Dam be on thick colours then to hide it. In troth we do, oh to of our loves we come, And not revenge, but if you strike us still, We must defend our reputations: Our pens shall Like our swords be always sheathed, Unless too much prou , I then They draw blood of you, blame us not, we are men: Come, let thy Muse bear up a smoother sail, 'Tis the easiest and the basest Art to rail, Why, what does it smell of Bubo? I believe thee, for they had needs to be very low & easy Stile of wit that thy brains go over. Nay Captain stay, we are of your band. 'Tis a quaint strain. Mine has the sharpest tooth, yonder he is. And dispersed amongst the gallants In several copies, by Asinius Bubo. Tucca will bite, how? grown Satirical, No, he bites tables, for he feeds on all. I'll led you in. Well said, come, come, where's the Bride? Both shall appear, " No black-tied star must stickein virtues Sphere. Smell whom? Good Horace, no; my cheeks do blush for thine, As often as thou speakest so, where one true And nobly-virtuous spirit; for thy best partly Loves thee, I wish one ten, even from my heart. I make account I put up as deep share In any good men love which thy worth earns, As thou thy self; we envy not to see, Thy friends with Baize to crown thy Poesy. No, here the gall lies, we that know what stuff Thy very heart is m de of; know the sta ke On which thy learning grows, and can give li e To thy (once dying) baseness; yet must we Dance Antics on your Paper.