Tast have in them, ours are; And naturall Some of the stocks are, their fruits, bastard all. 'Tis ten a clock and past; All whom the Mues, 175 Baloune, Tennis, Dyet, or the stewes, Had all the morning held, now the second Time made ready, that day, in flocks, are found In the Presence, and I, (God pardon mee.) As fresh, and sweet their Apparrells be, as bee 180 The fields they sold to buy them; For a King Those hose are, cry the flatterers; And bring Them next weeke to the Theatre to sell; Wants reach all states; Me seemes they doe as well At stage, as court; All are players; who e'r lookes 185 (For themselves dare not goe) o'r Cheapside books, Shall finde their wardrops Inventory. Now, The Ladies come; As Pirats, which doe know That there came weak ships fraught with Cutchannel, The men board them; and praise, as they thinke, well, 190 Their beauties; they the mens wits; Both are bought. Why good wits ne'r weare scarlet gownes, I thought This cause, These men, mens wits for speeches buy, And women buy all reds which scarlets die. He call'd her beauty limetwigs, her haire net; 195 She feares her drugs ill laid, her haire loose set. Would not Heraclitus laugh to see Macrine, From hat to shooe, himselfe at doore refine, As if the Presence were a Moschite, and lift His skirts and hose, and call his clothes to shrift, 200 Making them confesse not only mortall Great staines and holes in them; but veniall Feathers and dust, wherewith they fornicate: And then by _Durers_ rules survay the state Of his each limbe, and with strings the odds trye 205 Of his neck to his legge, and wast to thighe. So in immaculate clothes, and Symetrie Perfect as circles, with such nicetie As a young Preacher at his first time goes To preach, he enters, and a Lady which owes 210 Him not so much as good will, he arrests, And unto her protests protests protests, So much as at Rome would serve to have throwne Ten Cardinalls into the Inquisition; And whisperd by Jesu, so often, that A 215 Pursevant would have ravish'd him away For saying of our Ladies psalter; But'tis fit That they each other plague, they merit it. But here comes Glorius that will plague them both, Who, in the other extreme, only doth 220 Call a rough carelessenesse, good fashion; Whose cloak his spurres teare; whom he spits on He cares not, His ill words doe no harme To him; he rusheth in, as if arme, arme, He meant to crie; And though his face be as ill 225 As theirs which in old hangings whip Christ, still He strives to looke worse, he keepes all in awe; Jeasts like a licenc'd foole, commands like law. Tyr'd, now I leave this place, and but pleas'd so