t face wants a fresh Glosse.

_Gent_. Prethee, dib it in well, _Bos_.

_Acut_. _Pigmaleon, Pigmaleon_, I coniure thee appeare; to worke, to
worke, make more Marble Ingles. Nature thou art a foole, Art is above
thee; _Belzebub_, paint thy face there's some will love thee.

_Boss_. Rare, Mistris, heeres a cheeke like a Camelion or a blasing
Star, you shall heere me blaze it; heere's two saucers sanguine in a
sable field pomegranet, a pure pendat ready to drop out of the stable, a
pin and web argent in hayre de Roy.

_Grac_. And a fooles head in the Crest.

_Bos_. In the Crest? oh sweete Vermilion mistris, tis pittie the
Vermilion Wormes shoulde eate thee, ile set it with pretious stones and
ye will.

_Gent_. Enough, sweete _Bosse_, throwe a little water to spurt's face
and lets away.

_Bo_. Hold up; so, sir, now away. Oh Mistris, your scantling, most
sweete mistriss, most derydent starre.

_Acut_. Then most rydent starre, faire fall ye.

_Grac_. Nay tis the Moone her self, for there's her man and her Dogge
before.

_Bosse_. I, sir, but the man is not in the moone, and my bush is before
me, _ergo_, not at my backe, _et ergo_, not moone sir.

_Gent_. What's your will sir?

_Acut_. That you would leave us.

_Boss_. Leave you! zounds, sir! we scorne their companies, come they are
still, doe not open to them, we have no Conies to catch.

[_Exeunt[228] Getica and Boss, with the dog_.

_Acut_. Away, keepe no distance, even both together,
for wit ye may be Coacht together.
What sleeke-browde Saint can see this Idiotisme,
The shape and workmanship of omnipotency
To be so blinde with drugs of beastlinesse,
That will not bend the browe and bite the lippe,
Trouble his quiet soule with venome spleene
And feare least the all over-seeer
Can without vengeance see these ignomies?

_Grac_. Why, therfore are they belooved like Sargeants
and entertained like Beggers;
Think'st thou but any honorable Gate,
But will be shut against these Butterflies?

_Acut_. Oh _Graccus_! thou beguil'st opinion:
The Gates of great men stand more wide
To entertaine a foole then _Cresus_ armes
To hug the Golden God; and faster bard
Against necessitie then _Dives_ entrance
At _Olympus_ gate.

_Enter Servulus,[229] Scillicet, Philautus and boy_.

_Servu_.[230] Fa, la, sol, lasol; Boy, a Glasse.

_Boy_. Tis but one and all, sir.

_Acut_. Angels protect us, what have we heare?

_Boy_. Ye haue a good memorie, Sir, fo