Thy plainer verse, thy unaffected vein,
Is graced with a fair and sweeping train.
John Marston—
Jud. What, Monsieur Kinsayder, put up man, put up for shame,
Methinks he is a ruffian in his style,
Withouten bands or garters’ ornament.
He quaffs a cup of Frenchman’s helicon,
Then royster doyster in his oily terms
Cuts, thrusts, and foins at whomsoe’er he meets,
And strews about Ram-alley meditations.