One lock[164] Amazon-like dishevelled, As if he meant to wear a native cord, If chance his fates should him that bane afford. All British bare upon the bristled skin, Close notched is his beard, both lip and chin; His linen collar labyrinthian set, Whose thousand double turnings never met: His sleeves half hid with elbow pinionings, As if he meant to fly with linen wings. But when I look, and cast mine eyes below, What monster meets mine eyes in human show? So slender waist with such an abbot's loin, Did never sober nature sure conjoin. Lik'st a strawn scarecrow in a new-sown field, Reared on some stick, the tender corn to shield, Or, if that semblance suit not every deal, Like a broad shake-fork with a slender steel. Despised nature suit them once aright, Their body to their coat both now disdight. Their body to their clothes might shapen be, That will their clothes shape to their bodie. Meanwhile I wonder at so proud a back, Whiles the empty guts loud rumblen for long lack. [Footnote 163: long.] [Footnote 164: the love-locks which were so condemned by the Puritan Prynne. Cf. Lyly's _Midas_ and Sir John Davies' Epigram 22, _In Ciprum_.] GEORGE CHAPMAN. (1559-1634.) X. AN INVECTIVE WRITTEN BY MR. GEORGE CHAPMAN AGAINST MR. BEN JONSON. This satire was discovered in a "Common-place Book" belonging to Chapman, preserved among the Ashmole MSS. in the Bodleian Library, Oxford. Great, learned, witty Ben, be pleased to light The world with that three-forked fire; nor fright All us, thy sublearned, with luciferous boast That thou art most great, most learn'd, witty most Of all the kingdom, nay of all the earth; As being a thing betwixt a human birth And an infernal; no humanity Of the divine soul shewing man in thee. * * * * *