NOSE

Or noses? For we are curious, Fame: indeed, the Curious. And smell out. We cannot tell. And nose the thing you sent not. First, when ̄ ce come you? Some Protestant I warrant you, a Timeserver, As Fame her self is. How! Saturn! Chronos, and the Time it self. You' are found: enough. A notable old Pagan. A Fencer, and do's travail with a sith in stead of a longsword. Oh, we shall have his Saturnalia. The servants of their Master's. I have it here, here, strong, the sweat of it, And the confusion (which I love) I nose it, It tickles me. That's the fear. The gentlemanlike Satire, cares for nobody, His forehead tip't with bays, do you not know him? Nay licence. And censure whom we list, and how we list. Grows big with Satyr, Ha a male poem in her belly now, Big as a colt, Strange arguments of love! There is a School master Is turning all his works too, into Latin, To pure Satyric Latin; makes his Boys To learn him; calls him the times Juvenal; Hangs all his School with his sharp sentences; And over the Execution place hath painted Time whipped, for terror to the Infantry. Ha him by roat, recites him at the tables, Where he does govern, swears him into name, Upon his word, and sword, for the sole youth Dares make profession of Poetic truth, Now militant amongst us. To incredulous, That dagger is and article he uses, To rivet his respect into their pates, And make the ̄ faithful, Fame, you'll find you' have wro ̄ gd him. He scorns you, and defies you, Has God a Fame on's own, as well as a Faction. Well, what is that the Time will now exhibit? That Time would give us all we could imagine. Or all the World. Yes, and in all the taverns. Why if it be not that, let it be this then (For since you grant us freedom, we will hold it,) Let's have the giddy world turned the heals upward, And sing a rare black Sanctus, on his head, Of all things out of order. No, no, I'd have this- That could be monstrous: Enough, I mean. A Babel of wild humours. Not upon what. Something that is unlawful. Let it be uncivil enough, you hit us right. And if there be some mischief, it'll become it. I, all the better.