There was (not certain when) a certain preacher That never learned, and yet became a teacher, Who, having read in Latin thus a text Of _erat quidam homo_, much perplext, He seemed the same with studie great to scan, In English thus: _There was a certain man._ But now (quoth he), good people, note you this: He saith there _was_--he doth not say there _is_; For in these days of ours it is most plain Of promise, oath, word, deed, no man’s certain; Yet by my text you see it comes to pass That surely once a certain man there was; But yet, I think, in all your Bible no man Can find this text, _There was a certain woman_. Ben Jonson, next to Shakespeare as a dramatist, is a master of satiric wit. His strong, somewhat psychological comedies are difficult to quote from except in long extracts. _FROM “EVERY MAN IN HIS HUMOR”_ _Bobadil._ I will tell you, sir, by the way of private, and under seal, I am a gentleman, and live here obscure, and to myself; but were I known to her majesty and the lords (observe me), I would undertake, upon this poor head and life, for the public benefit of the state, not only to spare the entire lives of her subjects in general, but to save the one-half, nay, three parts of her yearly charge in holding war, and against what enemy soever. And how would I do it, think you? _E. Knowell._ Nay, I know not, nor can I conceive. _Bobadil._ Why, thus, sir. I would select nineteen more, to myself, throughout the land; gentlemen they should be of good spirit, strong and able constitution; I would choose them by an instinct, a character that I have: and I would teach these nineteen the special rules--as your punto, your reverso, your stoccata, your imbroccato, your passado, your montanto--till they could all play very near, or altogether as well as myself. This done, say the enemy were forty thousand strong, we twenty would come into the field the tenth of March, or thereabouts; and we would challenge twenty of the enemy; they could not in their honor refuse us; well, we would kill them: challenge twenty more, kill them; twenty more, kill them; twenty more, kill them too; and thus would we kill every man his twenty a day, that’s twenty score; twenty score, that’s two hundred; two hundred a day, five days a thousand; forty thousand; forty times five, five times forty, two hundred days kills them all up by computation. And this will I venture my poor gentleman-like carcass to perform, provided there be no treason practised upon us, by fair and discreet manhood; that is, civilly by the sword. _FROM “VOLPONE”_