Of meteors from carrion that arise,
And putrified bodies of dead men,
Are they engender’d to that ugly shape,
Being nought else but [ill-]preserv’d corruption. 
’Tis these that, in the entrance of their reign,
The plague and dangerous agues have brought in. 
They arre[63] and bark at night against the moon,
For fetching in fresh tides to cleanse the streets,
They vomit flames and blast the ripen’d fruits: 
They are death’s messengers unto all those
That sicken, while their malice beareth sway.

ORION.  A tedious discourse built on no ground. 
A silly fancy, Autumn, hast thou told,
Which no philosophy doth warrantise,
No old-received poetry confirms. 
I will not grace thee by refuting thee;
Yet in a jest (since thou rail’st so ’gainst dogs)
I’ll speak a word or two in their defence. 
That creature’s best that comes most near to men;
That dogs of all come nearest, thus I prove: 
First, they excel us in all outward sense,
Which no one of experience will deny: 
They hear, they smell, they see better than we. 
To come to speech, they have it questionless,
Although we understand them not so well. 
They bark as good old Saxon as may be,
And that in more variety than we. 
For they have one voice when they are in chase: 
Another when they wrangle for their meat: 
Another when we beat them out of doors. 
That they have reason, this I will allege;
They choose those things that are most fit for them,
And shun the contrary all that they may.[64]
They know what is for their own diet best,
And seek about for’t very carefully. 
At sight of any whip they run away,
As runs a thief from noise of hue and cry. 
Nor live they on the sweat of others’ brows,
But have their trades to get their living with—­
Hunting and coneycatching, two fine arts. 
Yea, there be of them, as there be of men,
Of every occupation more or less: 
Some carriers, and they fetch; some watermen,
And they will dive and swim when you bid them;
Some butchers, and they worry sheep by night;
Some cooks, and they do nothing but turn spits. 
Chrysippus holds dogs are logicians,
In that, by study and by canvassing,
They can distinguish ’twixt three several things: 
As when he cometh where three broad ways meet,
And of those three hath stay’d at two of them,
By which he guesseth that the game went not,
Without more pause he runneth on the third;
Which, as Chrysippus saith, insinuates
As if he reason’d thus within himself: 
Either he went this, that, or yonder way,
But neither that nor yonder, therefore this. 
But whether they logicians be or no,
Cynics they are, for they will snarl and bite;
Right courtiers to flatter and to fawn;
Valiant to set upon the[ir] enemies;
Most faithful and most constant to their friends. 
Nay, they are wise, as Homer witnesseth