The Workes of Benjamin Jonson | ||
CXXX. To Mime.
That, not a paire of friends each other see,But the first question is, when one saw thee?
That there's no journey set, or thought upon,
To Braynford, Hackney, Bow, but thou mak'st one;
That scarce the Towne designeth any feast
To which thou'rt not a weeke, bespoke a guest;
That still th'art made the suppers flagge, the drum,
The very call, to make all others come:
Think'st thou, Mime, this is great? or, that they strive
Whose noise shall keepe thy miming most alive,
Whil'st thou dost raise some Player, from the grave,
Out-dance the Babion, or out-boast the Brave:
Or (mounted on a stoole) thy face doth hit
On some new gesture, that's imputed wit?
O, runne not proud of this. Yet, take thy due.
Thou dost out-zany Cokely, Pod; nay, Gue:
And thine owne Coriat too. But (would'st thou see)
Men love thee not for this: They laugh at thee.
The Workes of Benjamin Jonson | ||