That he may look bifronted, as he speaks.

Tuc. Gods and fiends! Caesar! thou wilt not, Caesar, wilt thou?
Away, you whoreson vultures; away. You think I am a dead corps now,
because Caesar is disposed to jest with a man of mark, or so. Hold
your hook'd talons out of my flesh, you inhuman harpies. Go to,
do't. What! will the royal Augustus cast away a gentleman of
worship, a captain and a commander, for a couple of condemn'd
caitiff calumnious cargos?

Caes. Dispatch, lictors.

Tuc. Caesar! [The vizards are put upon him.

Caes. Forward, Tibullus.

Virg. Demand what cause they had to malign Horace.

Dem. In troth, no great cause, not I, I must confess; but that he
kept better company, for the most part, than I; and that better men
loved him than loved me; and that his writings thrived better than
mine, and were better liked and graced: nothing else.

Virg.
Thus envious souls repine at others' good.

Hor.
If this be all, faith, I forgive thee freely.
Envy me still, so long as Virgil loves me,
Gallus, Tibullus, and the best-best Caesar,
My dear Mecaenas; while these, with many more,
Whose names I wisely slip, shall think me worthy
Their honour'd and adored society,
And read and love, prove and applaud my poems;
I would not wish but such as you should spite them.

Cris. O--!

Tib. How now, Crispinus? C

Cris. O, I am sick--!

Hor. A bason, a bason, quickly; our physic works. Faint not, man.

Cris. O------retrograde------reciprocal------incubus.

Caes. What's that, Horace?

Hor. Retrograde, reciprocal, and incubus, are come up.

Gal. Thanks be to Jupiter!

Cris. O------glibbery------lubrical------defunct------O------!

Hor. Well said; here's some store.

Virg. What are they?

Hor. Glibbery, lubrical, and defunct.

Gal. O, they came up easy.

Cris. O------O------!

Tib. What's that?

Hor. Nothing yet.

Cris. Magnificate------

Mec. Magnificate! That came up somewhat hard.

Hor. Ay. What cheer, Crispinus?

Cris. O! I shall cast up my------spurious------snotteries------

Hor. Good. Again.

Oris. Chilblain'd------O------O------clumsie------

Hor. That clumsie stuck terribly.

Mec. What's all that, Horace?

Hor. Spurious, snotteries, chilblain'd, clumsie.

Tib. O Jupiter!

Gal. Who would have thought there should have been s