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ΟΛΙΓΟΝ ΤΕ ΦΙΛΟΝ ΤΕ.

*Ανακτα πεντάπηχυν ἐπικομπεῖ μέγαν ἡ τῶν Σκυθῶν τυραννὶς, ἄνδρ' ὑπέρβιον, τὸν Νικόλαον, ὃς φύσεως ἐπώνυμος αὑτοῦ πολίτας κάρτα νικήσας ἔχει.

ἡμεῖς δὲ Νίκην φερτέραν κεκτήμεθα, πιστὴν νόμοισι καὶ δίκῃ συνεργάτιν,

ὀλιγὴν ἄνασσαν, φασὶν, ἀλλ ̓ ὁμῶς φίλην.

NON, SI TE RUPERIS, PAR ERIS.

DISSONA

curvato dum flamina concitat ære,

Vicinum misere Publius excruciat.

Nec medicina mali, cum sæpe tacere rogatus
Hoc magis inflatis turgeat ille genis.
Forte tamen vagus huc accedit asellus, et, ut fit,
Cornicinis raucum mugiit ante fores.

Publius obstupuit sonitu graviore revictus;

Excidit e laxa buccina missa manu.

Tum vero,

dederat cui sic fortuna quietem,

Vicinus lepide ludificatus ait;

"Rumpe, miser, buccas; tamen hinc, cum rudet asellus,

Vincere vel tua quod cornua possit, erit."

SENARII GRÆCI

PRÆMIO PORSONIANO

QUOTANNIS PROPOSITO

DIGNATI

ET

IN CURIA CANTABRIGIENSI

RECITATI

COMITIIS MAXIMIS

A.D. M.DCCC.LIV.

AUCTORE

HENRICO MONTAGU BUTLER,

COLL. SS. TRIN. ET UNIV. SCHOL.

BEN JONSON.

THE FOX. Act III. Scene 1.

MOSCA.

I fear I shall begin to grow in love

With my dear self and my most prosperous parts,
They do so spring and burgeon; I can feel

A whimsy in my blood: I know not how,
Success hath made me wanton. I could skip

Out of my skin now, like a subtle snake,
I am so limber. O! your parasite

Is a most precious thing, dropt from above,

Not bred 'mongst clods and clod-poles here on earth.

I muse the mystery was not made a science,

It is so liberally profest! almost

All the wise world is little else, in nature,

But parasites or sub-parasites.

And yet

I mean not those that have your bare town-art,

To know who's fit to feed them; have no house,

No family, no care, and therefore mould

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