_Host_. T[h]ou shalt answer it to my leige, ile not be so misused, ye
have a wrong element, theres fire in my face, weele mount and ascend.
I'me misused, the mad comrades have plaide the knaves. Justice, my brave
_Caesar_.
_Accut_. Ile answer it, mine Host. Pardon, greate _Caesar_:
The intent was merriment, the reason this:
A true brow bends to see good things a misse,
Men turned to beasts, and such are you mine Host;
Ile show you else, you are a Goate, look here!
Now come you, this is your's, you know it, doe you not?
How old are you? are you not a Goate now?
Shall I teach you how to use a wife and keepe her
In the rank of goodnes? linke her to thy soule,
Devide not _individium_, be her and she thee,
Keepe her from the Serpent, let her not Gad
To everie Gossips congregation;
For there is blushing modestie laide out
And a free rayne to sensual turpitude
Given out at length and lybidinous acts,
Free chat, each giving counsell and sensure
_Capream maritum facere_, such art thou Goate.
Be not so secure. And you, my grand _Cornutus_,
Thou Ram, thou seest thy shame, a pent-house
To thy eye-browes, doost not glorie in it, doost?
Thou'lt lye in a Trucklebed, at thy wives bed feete,
And let her goe a Gossiping while thou sweepest the kitchin.
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