 | Flovvers of Epigrammes
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To Rufus.
A certaine
man not long agoe,
Gaue me the gaze frende Rufus so,
As if some foolishe fencer I
Had been, or one that went to buy.
With eye, and finger, when that he
Had looked long, and marked me:
Art thou (quoth he) art thou declare,
That famous pleasaunt Poet rare,
That men echewhere do Martial call,
Whose iests do ioye bothe great, and small
I somewhat smilyng, tolde my name,
And saied I was the verie same.
Why then (quoth he) so ill art clad?
Because I am a Poet bad
I aunswered. All this is true,
Frende Rufus whiche I tell to you.
Good Rufus sende some clothes therefore,
That I maie shamed bee no more.
| Flovvers of Epigrammes
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