Where he is ravished with such delectation,
As down among the bears and dogs he goes;
Where, whilst he skipping cries, ‘To head! to head!’
His satin doublet and his velvet hose
Are all with spittle from above bespread:
When he is like his father’s country hall,
Stinking with dogs and muted all with hawks;
And rightly on him too this filth doth fall,
Which for such filthy sports his books forsakes,
Leaving old Ployden, Dyer, Brooke alone,