_Sir Va._ You shall sweare, by _Phœbus_ (who is your Poets good |2580| Lord and Master,) that heere-after you will not hyre Horace, to giue you poesies for rings, or hand-kerchers, or kniues which you vnderstand not, nor to write your Loue-letters; which you (in turning of a hand) set your markes vpon, as your owne: nor you shall not carry Lattin Poets about you, till you can write |2585| and read English at most; and lastlye that you shall not call Horace your Ningle. _Asin._ By _Phœbus_ I sweare all this, and as many oathes as you will, so I may trudge. _Sir Vau._ Trudge then, pay your legs for Fees, and bee dissarg’d. |2590| _Tuc._ Tprooth----runne Red-cap, ware hornes there. _Exit Asi._ _Sir Va._ Now Master Horace, you must be a more horrible swearer, for ’your oath must be (like your wittes) of many collours; and like a Brokers booke of many parcels. _Tuc._ Read, read; th’inuentory of his oath. |2595| _Hor._ Ile sweare till my haire stands vp an end, to bee rid of this sting, oh this sting! _Sir Vau._ Tis not your sting of conscience, is it? _Tuc._ Vpon him: _Inprimis_. _Sir Vaugh._ _Inprimis_, you shall sweare by _Phœbus_ and the |2600| halfe a score Muses lacking one: not to sweare to hang your selfe, if you thought any Man, Ooman or Silde, could write Playes and Rimes, as well-fauour’d ones as your selfe. _Tuc._ Well sayd, hast brought him toth gallowes already? _Sir Vaugh._ You shall sweare not to bumbast out a new Play, |2605| with the olde lynings of Iestes, stolne from the Temples Reuels. _Tuc._ To him olde Tango. _Sir Va._ Moreouer, you shall not sit in a Gallery, when your Comedies and Enterludes haue entred their Actions, and there make vile and bad faces at euerie lyne, to make Sentlemen haue |2610| an eye to you, and to make Players afraide to take your part. _Tuc._ Thou shalt be my Ningle for this. _Sir Vau._ Besides, you must forsweare to venter on the stage, when your Play is ended, and to exchange curtezies, and complements with Gallants in the Lordes roomes, to make all the |2615| house rise vp in Armes, and to cry that’s Horace, that’s he, that’s he, that’s he, that pennes and purges Humours and diseases. _Tuc._ There boy, agen. _Sir Vau._ Secondly, when you bid all your friends to the marriage of a poore couple, that is to say: your _Wits and necessities, |2620| alias dictus, to the rifling of your Muse: alias, your Muses vp-sitting: alias a Poets Whitson-Ale_; you shall sweare that within three dayes after, you shall not abroad, in Booke-binders shops, brag that your _Vize-royes_ or _Tributorie-Kings_, haue done homage to you, or paide quarterage. |2625| _Tuc._ Ile busse thy head Holofernes.