What tediosity and disensanity
Is here among ye! Have my rudiments
Been labor’d so long with ye, milk’d unto ye,
And by a figure, even the very plum-broth
And marrow of my understanding laid upon ye,
And do you still cry, “Where?” and “How?” and “Wherefore?”
You most coarse frieze capacities, ye jane judgments,
Have I said, “Thus let be,” and “There let be,”
And “Then let be,” and no man understand me?
Proh Deum, medius fidius, ye are all dunces!
For why, here stand I; here the Duke comes; there are you,
Close in the thicket. The Duke appears, I meet him
And unto him I utter learned things,
And many figures; he hears, and nods, and hums,
And then cries, “Rare!” and I go forward. At length
I fling my cap up; mark there! Then do you,
As once did Meleager and the boar,
Break comely out before him; like true lovers,
Cast yourselves in a body decently,
And sweetly, by a figure, trace and turn, boys.