 | The Mastive, or Young-Whelpe of the Olde-Dogge |  |
A malo ad peius.
Priseus though nere so poore, yet herein ioyes,He once was Captaine of the Roaring-boyes:
And worthy then durst challenge as his due,
The chiefest place amongst those damned crew,
That with vnbutning could carouse a quart,
Drinke drunke, and sober, sixe times ere he part:
Knocke at each Gate at midnight on command,
And make the Porter stand with cap in hand,
Supposing him a man of that regard,
As scornes to passe not giuing good reward.
When he (poore Rascall) but a rambling goes,
And now in Limbo lowzy lies, God knowes.
| The Mastive, or Young-Whelpe of the Olde-Dogge | |