Lingva : Or The Combat of the Tongue, And the fiue Senses For Superiority A pleasant Comoedie |
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 | Lingva : Or The Combat of the Tongue, And the fiue Senses For Superiority |  |
SCEN. 6.
Tactvs solus:Tact.
Tactus thy sneezing somewhat did portend,
VVas euer man so fortunate as I?
To breake his shinnes at such a stumbling Block.
Roses and Baies packe hence: this Crowne and Robe,
My Browes and Bodie circles and inuests.
How gallantly it fitts me, sure that slaue,
Measurd my head that wrought this Coronet.
They lie that say Complections cannot change:
My Bloud's enobled, and I am transform'd,
Vnto the sacred temper of a King,
Me thinke I here my noble Parasites
Stiling me Cæsar, or great Alexander,
Licking my feete and wondring where I got
This pretious oyntment; how my pace is mended,
How princely do I speake, how sharpe I threaten:
Peasants Ile curbe your head strong impudence:
And make you tremble when the Lyon roares,
Yea earth-bred wormes. O for a looking glasse:
Poets will write whole volumes of this scarre,
VVhere's my attendants? Come hither Sirra quickly.
Or by the wings of Hermes.—
| Lingva : Or The Combat of the Tongue, And the fiue Senses For Superiority | |