Hor. Away, and, stay: heere be Epigrams vpon Tucca, divulge these among the gallants; as for Crispinus, that Crispin-asse and Fannius his Play-dresser; who (to make the Muses beleeue, their subiects eares were staru’d, and that there was a dearth of Poesie) cut an Innocent Moore i’th middle, to serue him in twice; & when he had done, made Poules-worke of it, as for these Twynnes these Poet-apes:
Their Mimicke trickes shall serue
With mirth to feast our Muse, whilst their owne starue.
Asin. Well Ningle Ile trudge, but where’s the Randeuow?
Hor. Well thought off, marie at Sir Vaughans lodging the Welsh knight, I haue compos’d a loue-letter for the gallants worship, to his Rosamond: the second, Mistris Miniuer, because she does not thinke so soundly of his lame English as he could wish; I ha gull’d his Knight-ship heere to his face, yet haue giuen charge to his wincking vnderstanding not to perceiue it: nay Gods so, away deare Bubo.
Asi. I am gone.
Exit.
Hor. The Muses birdes the Bees were hiu’d and fled,
Vs in our cradle, thereby prophecying;
That we to learned eares should sweetly sing,
But to the vulger and adulterate braine,
Should loath to prostitute our Virgin straine.
No, our sharpe pen shall keep the world in awe,
Horace thy Poesie, wormwood wreathes shall weare,
We hunt not for mens loues but for their feare.
Exit.
Enter Sir Adam and Miniuer.
Min. O Sir Adam Prickshaft, you are a the bow hand wide, a long yard I assure you: and as for Suitors, truelie they all goe downe with me, they haue all one flat answere.
Sir Adam. All Widdow? not all, let Sir Adam bee your first man still.