Jolly. On my word, this is held the best penned of the time, and he has writ a very good play: by this day, it was extremely applauded.
Capt. Does he write plays by the day? Indeed, a man would ha' judged him a labouring poet.
Jolly. A labouring poet! By this hand, he's a knight. Upon my recommendation, venture to see it; hang me if you be not extremely well satisfied.
Care. A knight, and writes plays! It may be, but 'tis strange to us; so they say there are other gentlemen poets without land or Latin; this was not ordinary; prythee, when was he knighted?
Jolly. In the north, the last great knighting, when 'twas God's great mercy we were not all knights.
Wild. I'll swear they say, there are poets that have more men in liveries than books in their studies.
Capt. And what think you, gentlemen, are not these things to start a man? I believe 'tis the first time you have found them lie at the sign of the page, footmen, and gilded coaches. They were wont to lodge at the thin cloak; they and their muses made up the family, and thence sent scenes to their patrons, like boys in at windows; and one would return with a doublet, another with a pair of breeches, a third with a little ready money, which, together with their credit with a company, in three terms you rarely saw a poet repaired.
Jolly. This truth nobody denies.
Wild. Prythee, let us resolve what we shall do, lest we meet with some of them; for it seems they swarm, and I fear nothing like a dedication, though it be but of himself; for I must hear him say more than either I deserve or he believes. I hate that in a poet; they must be dull, or all upon all subjects; so that they can oblige none but their muse.