hese three Gentlemen, they have right use on't;
They'l stand still for an houre and be beaten.
These are the Anagrammes of three great Worthies.

_Mir_. They will infect my house with cowardize,
If they breathe longer in it; my roofe covers
No baffl'd Monsieurs, walk and aire your selves;
As I live, they stay not here, while liver'd wretches
Without one word to ask a reason why,
Vanish, 'tis the last warning, and with speed,
For if I take ye in hand I shall dissect you,
And read upon your flegmatick dull carcases.
My horse againe there: I have other business,
Which you shall heare hereafter and laugh at it.
Good night _Charles_, faire goodness to you dear Ladie
Tis late, 'tis late. _Ang._ Pray Sir be careful of us.

_Mir._ It is enough, my best care shall attend ye. _Exeunt._

_Actus IV. Scaena IV._

_Enter_ Andrew.

Are you come old Master? very good, your horse
Is well set up, but ere ye part, Ile ride you
And spur your reverend Justiceship such a question,
As I shall make the sides of your reputation bleed,
Trulie I will. Now must I play at Bo-peep--
A banquet--well, Potatoes and Eringoes,
And as I take it, Cantharides,--Excellent,
A Priapisme followes, and as Ile handle it,
It shall old lecherous Goat in authoritie.
Now they begin to bill; how he slavers her!
[G]ramercie _Lilly_, she spits his kisses out,
And now he offers to fumble she fals off,
(That's a good Wench) and cries fair play above boord
Who are they in the corner? As I live,
A covey of _Fidlers_; I shall have some musick yet
At my making free oth' Companie of Horners;
There's the comfort, and a Song too! He beckons for one--
Sure 'tis no Anthem nor no borrowed rhymes
Out of the Schoole of vertue; I will listen-- A _Song._
This was never penn'd at _Geneva_, the note's too spritely.
So, so, the musicke's paid for, and now what followes?
O that Monsieur _Miramont_ would but keep his word.
Here were a feast to make him fat with laughter,
At the most 'tis not six minutes riding from his house,
Nor will he break I hope--O are you come Sir?
The prey is in the net and will break in
Upon occasion. _Mir._ Thou shall rule me _Andrew_.
O th' infinite fright that will assaile this Gentleman!
The quarterns, tertians, and quotidians
That will hang like Sargeants on his worships shoulders!
The humiliation of the flesh of this man!
This grave austere man will be wondred at.
How will those solemne lookes appeare to me;
And tha