INGENIOSO.
Churchyard?[56]
Hath not Shore's wife, although a light-skirts she,
Giv'n him a chaste, long-lasting memory?
JUDICIO.
No; all light pamphlets once I finden shall,
A Churchyard and a grave to bury all!
Thomas Nash.[57]
INGENIOSO. Ay, here is a fellow, Judicio, that carried the deadly stock[58] in his pen, whose muse was armed with a gag-tooth,[59] and his pen possessed with Hercules' furies.
JUDICIO.
Let all his faults sleep with his mournful chest,
And then for ever with his ashes rest:
His style was witty, though he had some gall,
Something he might have mended; so may all:
Yet this I say that, for a mother-wit,
Few men have ever seen the like of it.
INGENIOSO reads the rest of the names.
JUDICIO. As for these, they have some of them been the old hedge-stakes of the press; and some of them are, at this instant, the bots and glanders of the printing-house: fellows that stand only upon terms to serve the term,[60] with their blotted papers, write, as men go to stool, for needs; and when they write, they write as a bear pisses, now and then drop a pamphlet.
INGENIOSO. Durum telum necessitas. Good faith, they do, as I do—exchange words for money. I have some traffic this day with Danter[61] about a little book which I have made; the name of it is, A Catalogue of Cambridge Cuckolds. But this Belvidere, this methodical ass, hath made me almost forget my time; I'll now to Paul's Churchyard; meet me an hour hence at the sign of the Pegasus in Cheapside, and I'll moist thy temples with a cup of claret, as hard as the world goes.
[Exit JUDICIO.
ACTUS I., SCAENA 3.
Enter DANTER the Printer.