_Scorne_ frump the meacock Verse that dares not sing, Drouping, so like a flagging flowre in raine: Where doth the _Vrany_ or _Fury_ ring, That shall enfraight my stomacke with disdaine? Shall Frend put-vp such braggardous affrontes? Are milksop Muses such whiteliuer'd Trontes? Shall Boy the gibbet be of Writers all, And none hang-vp the gibbet on the wall? If / dreery hobbling Ryme hart-broken be, And quake for dread of Danters scarecrow Presse: Shrew Prose, thy pluckcrow implements addresse, And pay the hangman pen his double fee. Be Spite a Sprite, a Termagant, a Bugg: Truth feares no ruth, and can the Great Diu'll tugg. ----_Ultrix accincta flagello._ _Her old Comedy, newly intituled._ My Prose is resolute, as Beuis sworde: _March rampant beast in formidable hide:_ _Supererogation Squire on cockhorse ride:_ Zeale shapes an aunswer to the blouddiest worde. If nothing can _the booted Souldiour_ tame, Nor Ryme, nor Prose, nor Honesty, nor Shame, But _Swash_ will still his trompery aduaunce, Il'e leade the _gagtooth'd fopp_ a new-founde daunce. Deare howers were euer cheape to pidling me: I knew a glorious, and brauing Knight, That would be deem'd a truculentall wight: Of him I scrauld a dowty Comedy. _Sir Bombarduccio_ was his cruell name: But _Gnasharduccio_ the sole brute of _Fame_. _L'Enuoy._ See, how He brayes, and fumes at me poore lasse, That must immortalise the killcowe _Asse_. / _To the Right Worshipfvll, his especiall deare frend, M. Gabriell Haruey, Doctour of Lawe._