to the peace of our liege lord, Augustus Caesar, his crown and dignity, and against the form of a statute, in that case made and provided, have moat ignorantly, foolishly, and, more like yourselves, maliciously, gone about to deprave, and calumniate the person and writings of Quintus Horatius Flaccus, here present, poet, and priest to the Muses, and to that end have mutually conspired and plotted, at sundry times, as by several means, and in sundry places, for the better accomplishing your base and envious purpose, taxing him falsely, of self-love, arrogancy, impudence, railing, filching by translation, etc.  Of all which calumnies, and every of them, in manner and form aforesaid, what answer you!  Are you guilty, or not guilty?

Tuc.  Not guilty, say.

Cris.  Dem.  Not guilty.

Tib.  How will you be tried ?
                                        [Aside to Crispinus. 
Tuc.  By the Roman Gods, and the noblest Romans.

Cris.  Dem.  By the Roman gods, and the noblest Romans.

Virg.  Here sits Mecaenas, and Cornelius Gallus, are you contented to be tried by these?
          
                                            [Aside. 
Tuc.  Ay, so the noble captain may be joined with them in commission, say.

Cris.  Dem.  Ay, so the noble captain may be joined
with them in commission.

Virg.  What says the plaintiff?

Hor.  I am content.

Virg.  Captain, then take your place.

Tuc. alas, my worshipful praetor! ’tis more of thy gentleness than of my deserving, I wusse.  But since it hath pleased the court to make choice of my wisdom and gravity, come, my calumnious varlets; let’s hear you talk for yourselves, now, an hour or two.  What can you say?  Make a noise.  Act, act!

Virg. 
   Stay, turn, and take an oath first.  You shall swear,
   By thunder-darting Jove, the king of gods,
   And by the genius of Augustus Caesar;
   By your own white and uncorrupted souls,
   And the deep reverence of our Roman justice;
   To judge this case, with truth and equity: 
   As bound by your religion, and your laws. 
   Now read the evidence:  but first demand
   Of either prisoner, if that writ be theirs.
                                          [Gives him two papers. 
Tib.  Shew this unto Crispinus.  Is it yours?

Tuc.  Say, ay. [Aside.]—­What! dost thou stand upon it, pimp!  Do not deny thine own Minerva, thy Pallas, the issue of thy brain.

Oris.  Yes it is mine.

Tib.  Shew that unto Demetrius.  Is it yours?

Dem.  It is.

Tuc.  There’s a father will not deny his own bastard now, I warrant thee.

Virg.  Read them aloud.

Tib. 
   Ramp up my genius, be not retrograde;
   But boldly nominate a spade a spade
   What, shall thy lubrical and glibbery muse
   Live, as she were defunct, like punk in stews!