By your contagion, almost to put off
The nature of the man, and turn'd him Devil,
Because he should be like you, and I hope
Will march to Hell together: I have spoken,
And if the Limning you in your true Colours
Can make the Painter gracious, I stand ready
For my reward, or if my words distaste you,
I weigh it not, for though your Grooms were ready
To cut my Throat for't, be assur'd I cannot
Use other Language.