Their modest stole, to garish looser weed, Deck'd with love-favours, their late whoredoms meed : Each bush, each bank, and each base apple-squire1 From common trulls and loathsome brothelry! SATIRE III. WITH Some pot-fury, ravish'd from their wit, One higher pitch'd doth set his soaring thought As it might be the Turkish Tamberlaine :2 1 See Nabbe's Microcosmus. 2 Malone's Shakespeare. Then weeneth he his base drink-drowned spright, Now, lest such frightful shows of Fortune's fall, And laughs, and grins, and frames his mimic face, With gladsome noise of that applauding crowd. Are match'd with monarchs, and with mighty kings. When each base clown his clumbsy fist doth bruise, And show his teeth in double rotten row, For laughter at his self-resembled show. 1 See Marston's Satires, 1598. 2 Seneca. |