And in far harsher terms elsewhere, as these:
Non me verbosas leges ediscere, non me Ingrato voces prostituisse foro.
But how this should relate unto our laws, Or the just ministers, with least abuse, I reverence both too much to understand! Then, for the captain, I will only speak An epigram I here have made: it is
UNTO TRUE SOLDIERS. That's the lemma: mark it. Strength of my country, whilst I bring to view Such: as are miss-call'd captains, and wrong you, And your high names; I do desire, that thence, Be nor put on you, nor you take offence: I swear by your true friend, my muse, I love Your great profession which I once did prove; And did not shame it with my actions then, No more than I dare now do with my pen. He that not trusts me, having vowed thus much, But's angry for the captain, still: is such. Now for the players, it is true, I tax'd them, And yet but some; and those so sparingly, As all the rest might have sat still unquestion'd, Had they but had the wit or conscience To think well of themselves. But impotent, they Thought each man's vice belong'd to their whole tribe; And much good do't them! What they have done 'gainst me, I am not moved with: if it gave them meat, Or got them clothes, 'tis well; that was their end. Only amongst them, I am sorry for Some better natures, by the rest so drawn, To run in that vile line.
Pol. And is this all! Will you not answer then the libels?
Pol. It will be taken To be stupidity or tameness in you.
Aut. But they that have incensed me, can in soul Acquit me of that guilt. They know I dare To spurn or baffle them, or squirt their eyes With ink or urine; or I could do worse, Arm'd with Archilochus' fury, write Iambics, Should make the desperate lashers hang themselves; Rhime them to death, as they do Irish rats In drumming tunes. Or, living, I could stamp Their foreheads with those deep and public brands, That the whole company of barber-surgeon a Should not take off with all their art and plasters. And these my prints should last, still to be read In their pale fronts; when, what they write 'gainst me Shall, like a figure drawn in water, fleet, And the poor wretched papers be employed To clothe tobacco, or some cheaper drug: This I could do, and make them infamous. But, to what end? when their own deeds have mark'd 'em; And that I know, within his guilty breast Each slanderer bears a whip that shall torment him Worse than a million of these temporal plagues: Which to pursue, were but a feminine humour, And far beneath the dignity of man.