To Mira.

Many aske Mira , why I nam'd thee so:
Let them aske Nature why she fram'd thee so.

Of Issa.

Issa from me to a player tooke her way,
No meruaile, for she alwaies lou'd to play.

Of Chrestina.

Talke bawdery and Chrestina spets and spals,
So much her chast thoughts hate it, tut that's false,
She loues it well, wherfore then should she spet?
Her teeth doe water but to heare of it.

To Women.

Yee that haue beauty and withall no pitty,
Are like a prick-song-lesson without ditty.

To Cotta.

Be not wrath, Cotta , that I not salute thee,
I vs'd it whilst I worthy did repute thee:
Now thou art made a painted Saint, and I
Cotta will not commit idolatry.

To the Reader.

Excuse me (Reader) though I now and than,
In some light lines doe shew my selfe a man,
Nor be so sowre, some wanton words to blame,
They are the language of an Epigrame.

Of Phrix.

Phrix hath a nose; who doubts what ech man knows;
But what hath Phrix know-worth besides his nose?

Of the same.

Naeuia's a Merchant, and a Gentleman:
That is, scarce honest, liue he how he can.

Of Chrestina.

I told Chrestina I would lie with her,
When she with an old phrase doth me aduise,
To keepe my selfe from water and from fier,
And she would keepe me from betwixt her thighs,
That there is water I doe make no doubt,
But Il'e be loth (wench) to be fired out.

Of the same.

With what conscience can Metius sell law deare,
When of meere almes he was made Barrister?