[102 understand] understood _1669:_ _brackets from Q_. _See note_] [105 and qualities;] of qualities; _Lec_, _P_, _Q_, _S96_] [106 a] _om. 1669_] [108 lechery. _1635-69 and MSS:_ liberty; _1633_] [109 were there, _1633-39:_ there were, _1650-69_] _Satyre II._ Sir; though (I thanke God for it) I do hate Perfectly all this towne, yet there's one state In all ill things so excellently best, That hate, toward them, breeds pitty towards the rest. Though Poëtry indeed be such a sinne 5 As I thinke that brings dearths, and Spaniards in, Though like the Pestilence and old fashion'd love, Ridlingly it catch men; and doth remove Never, till it be sterv'd out; yet their state Is poore, disarm'd, like Papists, not worth hate. 10 One, (like a wretch, which at Barre judg'd as dead, Yet prompts him which stands next, and cannot reade, And saves his life) gives ideot actors meanes (Starving himselfe) to live by his labor'd sceanes; As in some Organ, Puppits dance above 15 And bellows pant below, which them do move. One would move Love by rithmes; but witchcrafts charms Bring not now their old feares, nor their old harmes: Rammes, and slings now are seely battery, Pistolets are the best Artillerie. 20 And they who write to Lords, rewards to get, Are they not like singers at doores for meat? And they who write, because all write, have still That excuse for writing, and for writing ill; But hee is worst, who (beggarly) doth chaw 25 Others wits fruits, and in his ravenous maw Rankly digested, doth those things out-spue, As his owne things; and they are his owne, 'tis true, For if one eate my meate, though it be knowne The meate was mine, th'excrement is his owne: 30 But these do mee no harme, nor they which use To out-doe Dildoes, and out-usure Jewes; To out-drinke the sea, to out-sweare the Letanie; Who with sinnes all kindes as familiar bee As Confessors; and for whose sinfull sake, 35 Schoolemen new tenements in hell must make: Whose strange sinnes, Canonists could hardly tell In which Commandements large receit they dwell. But these punish themselves; the insolence Of Coscus onely breeds my just offence, 40 Whom time (which rots all, and makes botches poxe, And plodding on, must make a calfe an oxe) Hath made a Lawyer, which was (alas) of late But a scarce Poët; jollier of this state, Then are new benefic'd ministers, he throwes 45 Like nets, or lime-twigs, wheresoever he goes, His title of Barrister, on every wench, And wooes in language of the Pleas, and Bench: A motion, Lady; Speake Coscus; I have beene In love, ever since _tricesimo_ of the Queene, 50