Cris. O--I'll dye them into another colour, at pleasure: How many
yards of velvet dost thou think they contain?

Hor.
'Heart! I have put him now in a fresh way
To vex me more:---faith, sir, your mercer's book
Will tell you With more patience than I can:---
For I am crost, and so's not that, I think.

Cris.
'Slight, these verses have lost me again!
I shall not invite them to mind, now.

Hor.
Rack not your thoughts, good sir; rather defer it
To a new time; I'll meet you at your lodging,
Or where you please: 'till then, Jove keep you, sir!

Cris. Nay, gentle Horace, stay; I have it now.

Hor.
Yes, sir. Apollo, Hermes, Jupiter,
Look down upon me. [Aside.

Cris.
Rich was thy hap; sweet dainty cap,
There to be placed;
Where thy smooth black, sleek white may smack,
And both be graced.

White is there usurp'd for her brow; her forehead: and then sleek,
as the parallel to smooth, that went before. A kind of paranomasie,
or agnomination: do you conceive, sir?

Hor. Excellent. Troth, sir, I must be abrupt, and leave you.

Cris. Why, what haste hast thou? prithee, stay a little; thou shalt
not go yet, by Phoebus.

Hor. I shall not! what remedy? fie, how I sweat with suffering!

Cris. And then

Hor. Pray, sir, give me leave to wipe my face a little.

Cris. Yes, do, good Horace.

Hor.
Thank you, sir.
Death! I must crave his leave to p--, anon;.
Or that I may go hence with half my teeth:
I am in some such fear. This tyranny
Is strange, to take mine ears up by commission,
(Whether I will or no,) and make them stalls
To his lewd solecisms, and worded trash.
Happy thou, bold Bolanus, now I say;
Whose freedom, and impatience of this fellow,
Would, long ere this, have call'd him fool, and fool,
And rank and tedious fool! and have flung jests
As hard as stones, till thou hadst pelted him
Out of the place; whilst my tame modesty
Suffers my wit be made a solemn ass,
To bear his fopperies--- [Aside.

Cris. Horace, thou art miserably affected to be gone, I see.
But--prithee let's prove to enjoy thee a while. Thou hast no
business, I assure me. Whither is thy journey directed, ha?

Hor. Sir, I am going to visit a friend that's sick.

Cris A f