IOSO.
Marry, so I will, I warrant thee; if poverty press not too much, I'll
correct no press but the press of the people.

JUDICIO.
Would it not grieve any good spirits to sit a whole month knitting out
a lousy, beggarly pamphlet, and, like a needy physician, to stand whole
years tossing and tumbling the filth that falleth from so many draughty
inventions as daily swarm in our printing-house.

INGENIOSO.
Come, I think we shall have you put finger in the eye, and cry, O
friends, no friends! Say, man, what new paper hobby-horses, what
rattle-babies, are come out in your late May morris-dance?

JUDICIO.
Fly[37] my rhymes as thick as flies in the sun; I think there be never
an alehouse in England, not any so base a maypole on a country green,
but sets forth some poet's petronels or demi-lances to the paper wars
in Paul's Churchyard.

INGENIOSO.
And well too may the issue of a strong hop learn to hop all over
England, when as better wits sit, like lame cobblers, in their studies.
Such barmy heads will always be working, when as sad vinegar wits sit
souring at the bottom of a barrel; plain meteors, bred of the
exhalation of tobacco and the vapours of a moist pot, that soar[38] up
into the open air, when as sounder wit keeps below.

JUDICIO.
Considering the furies of the times, I could better endure to see those
young can-quaffing hucksters shoot off their pellets, so they would
keep them from these English _Flores poetarum_; but now the world is
come to that pass, that there starts up every day an old goose that
sits hatching up those eggs which have been filched from the nest of
crows and kestrels. Here is a book, Ingenioso; why, to condemn it to
clear [fire,][39] the usual Tyburn of all misliving papers, were too
fair a death for so foul an offender.

INGENIOSO.
What's the name of it, I pray thee, Judicio?

JUDICIO.
Look, it's here; "Belvidere."[40]

INGENIOSO.
What, a bell-wether in Paul's Churchyard! so called because it keeps a
bleating, or because it hath the tinkling bell of so many poets about
the neck of it? What is the rest of the title?

JUDICIO. "The Garden of the Muses."

INGENIOSO.
What have we here, the poet garish, gaily bedecked, like fore-horses of
the parish? What follows?

JUDICIO.
_Quem, referent musae, vivet, dum robora tellus,
Dum coelum stellas, dum vehit amnis aquas_.
Who blurs fair paper with foul bastard rhymes,
Shall live full many an age in latter times:
Who makes a ballad