INGENIOSO.  An excellent observation, in good faith.  See how the old fox teacheth the young cub to worry a sheep; or rather sits himself, like an old goose, hatching the addle brain of Master Amoretto.  There is no fool to the satin fool, the velvet fool, the perfumed fool; and therefore the witty tailors of this age put them under colour of kindness into a pair of cloth bags, where a voider will not serve the turn.  And there is no knave to the barbarous knave, the moulting knave, the pleading knave.—­What, ho!  Master Recorder?  Master Noverint universi per presentes,—­not a word he, unless he feels it in his fist.

PHANTASMA.
Mitto tibi merulas, cancros imitare legendo.

SIR RADERIC to FUROR. 
Fellow, what art thou, that art so bold?

FUROR. 
I am the bastard of great Mercury,
Got on Thalia when she was asleep: 
My gaudy grandsire, great Apollo hight,[113]
Born was, I hear, but that my luck was ill,
To all the land upon the forked hill.

PHANTASMA.
O crudelis Alexi, nil mea carmina curas? 
Nil nostri miserere? mori me denique coges?

SIR RADERIC to PAGE. 
If you use them thus, my master is a justice of peace, and will send
you all to the gallows.

PHANTASMA.
Hei mihi, quod domino non licet ire tuo?[114]

INGENIOSO. 
Good Master Recorder, let me retain you this term—­for my cause, good
Master Recorder.

RECORDER. 
I am retained already on the contrary part.  I have taken my fee;
begone, begone.

INGENIOSO.  It’s his meaning I should come off.[115] Why, here is the true style of a villain, the true faith of a lawyer; it is usual with them to be bribed on the one side, and then to take a fee of the other; to plead weakly, and to be bribed and rebribed on the one side, then to be fee’d and refee’d of the other; till at length, per varios casus, by putting the case so often, they make their clients so lank, that they may case them up in a comb-case, and pack them home from the term, as though they had travelled to London to sell their horse only; and, having lost their fleeces, live afterward like poor shorn sheep.

FUROR. 
The gods above, that know great Furor’s fame,
And do adore grand poet Furor’s name,
Granted long since at heaven’s high parliament,
That whoso Furor shall immortalise,
No yawning goblins shall frequent his grave;
Nor any bold, presumptuous cur shall dare
To lift his leg against his sacred dust. 
Where’er I have my rhymes, thence vermin fly,
All, saving that foul-fac’d vermin poverty. 
This sucks the eggs of my invention,
Evacuates my wit’s full pigeon-house. 
Now may it please thy generous dignity
To take this vermin napping, as he lies
In the true trap of liberality,
I’ll cause the Pleiades to give thee thanks;
I’ll write thy name within the sixteenth sphere: 
I’ll make th’Antarctic pole to kiss thy toe. 
And Cynthia to do homage to thy tail.