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4. To the Satyro-mastix.

Oh Lord Sir, y'are deceiv'd; I'm none of those
That write in Anger or malicious spleene;
I have not taken Pepper in the Nose,
Nor base inventer of false libels beene.
Such ones there be indeed such I have seene;
I envy no man for his greatnesse; I,
Nor seeke I any honest mans disgrace:
I joy in every ones prosperity;
I'l not the credit of a dogge deface,
My adversary shall not prove the case.
Then stand back (sirrah Whip-jack) with your scourge
Doe not incense my Satyr for thy life:
Hee's patient enough unlesse thou urge,
Contentions now a daies are growne too rife,
And He, is very backward unto strife.
If you esteeme your peace provoke not me.
For whilst I finde good cause and reason why,


In spight of all that foes to Satyrs be;
He shall (if I list) taxe iniquity,
And tis a matter of necessity.
What? you would faine have all the Great ones freed;
They must not for their vices be controld.
Beware; that were a saucinesse indeed:
But i the Great ones to offend be bold,
I see no reason but they should be told.
Yea and they shall; their faults most hurtfull be,
And (though I will not put them to that shame)
No great injustice in it I did see,
If they were taxed by their proper name.
For no sin can on earth have her full blame.
Then Scourge of Satyrs hold thy whip from mine
Or I will make my rod, lash thee and thine.