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He strives too, to be pleasant, and brings in
Mimicks, and fools, to make the people grin,
I know not what the rest think, but I say,
Drammato's the best fool in every Play.

827. Taming of a Shrew.

Would'st tame thy wife: first tame her tongue, Who thus his wife comes o'r shall overcome.

828. Liberty.

If he be well which hath what he can wish,
Why then do men for stinging serpents fish?
True liberty 'mongst vertues bears the bell;
He may live as he will, which may live well.

829. Drammato.

Of all Drammato's Playes that ere I see,
Nothing could ever make me laugh but he.

830. On Galba.

Galba she sayes, she never tasted Man;
Galba will lye, beleeve it, now and than.

831. To the Reader.

Such tenour I have kept here all along,
As none (I hope) can challenge me with wrong.

I injure not the least, I give no blow
To any person; he that knows not how

To scourge mans vice, unlesse he tax his name,
Makes a base Libel of an Epigram,

832. On Formidando.

Stout Formidando walks imperiously,
With tragick Bilbo girt upon his thigh;
His roping locks, his buffe, becomes him well,
And to say sooth, he looks right terrible;
He sways the town before him, and will slay
Whatever man he be that dares gain-say:
But Formidando pawn'd his coat last night,
And Formidando's out of money quite;
Nor oaths will passe, nor credit from henceforth,
For one poor penny, or a penny-worth :
Starv'd Creditors begin to gape; and how
To quit himself he scarcely knows; that now
Stout Formidando who was wont to daunt
Whole thousands, trembles at a Pursivant.

833. The German-Dutch.

Death's not to be: so Seneca doth think:
But Dutchmen say 'tis death to cease to drink.

834. Death.

What Death is, dost thou ask of me?

Till dead I do not know;

Come to me when thou hear'st I'm dead,

Then what 'tis I shall show.

835. On Carp and Manilla.

Manilla would with Carp be maried,

Manilla's wise I trow :

But Carp by no means will Manilla wed;
Carp's the wiser of the two.

836. On Carp.

These are my verses which Carp reads; 'tis known ; But when Carp makes them non-sense, th'are his own.

837. To Phaulos.

Thou art offended (Phaulos) as I hear,
Because I sometimes call thee whoremaster;
My nature's blunt, and so will ever be ;
I call a spade a spade, pray pardon me.

838. To Coracine.

What Crispulus is that in a new gown,
All trim'd with loops and buttons up and down?
That leans there on his arm in private chat
With thy young wife, what Crispulus is that?

He's Proctor of a Court, thou say'st, and does
Some businesse of my wives: thou brainlesse goose !
He does no businesse of thy wives, not he,

He does thy businesse (Coracine) for thee.

839. On Pru.

Pru praises her complexion, nay swears
She dares compare with any of her years;
And very true it is, that Prudence sayes,
I saw not better sold these many dayes.

840. The Parret.

If lawful't be, of things t'invent the name ;
With pratling Parret, prater is the same.

841. To Maronilla.

My Maronilla, I could easily spare

Thy hands and arms, thy shoulders and fraught haire,
I could well spare thy feet, thy legs and thighs,
Thy tongue and teeth, thy lips, cheeks, forehead, eyes:
And not to reckon each part severall,

My Maronilla I could spare thee all.

842. Study.

Some men grow mad by studying much to know;
But who grows mad by studying good to grow?

843. To Lionell.

Lionell shows his honourable scars,
And labours to invite me to the wars :
But I will not by no means Lionell;
I do not love to live ill, and drink well.

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844. On Pumilio a Dwarfe.

Pumilio lying in despaire

Of further life, said, take no care

To make a Tomb for me, good folks,
I will be buried in a Box.

845. Sharpe sauce.

Kisses and favours are sweet things,

But those have thornes, and these have stings.

846. On Drad-nought.

Drad-nought was for his many riots laid
Ith'Counter lately, now he's wondrous staid.

847. On Phaulos and Gellia.

Phaulos he visits, Gellia she's sick :

I am no Wizard, yet I know their trick.

848. To his Friend.

I will not be a Foe to any,

Nor be familiar with too many;
And twice I will not love my friend,
But whom I love, I'l love to th'end.

849. Maried Folke.

Man love thy wife; thy Husband, wife obay: Wives are our Heart, we should be Head alway.

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