When Cineas comes amongst his friends in morning,
He slyly looks who first his cap doth move:
Him he salutes, the rest so grimly scorning,
As if for ever they had lost his love.
I, knowing how it doth the humour fit
Of this fond gull to be saluted first,
Catch at my cap, but move it not a whit:
Which he perceiving, seems for spite to burst.
But, Cineas, why expect you more of me
Than I of you? I am as good a man,
And better too by many a quality,
For vault, and dance, and fence, and rhyme I can:
You keep a whore at your own charge, men tell me;
Indeed, friend Cineas, therein you excel me.