Upon the stage; for I am sure that
There was both bishop, pastor, curat:
Nor was their labour light, or small,
The charge of some was pastoral.

Our plays were certainly much worse,
For they had a brave hobby-horse,
Which did present unto his grace
A wondrous witty ambling pace :

But we were chiefly spoyl'd by that

Which was six hours of God knows what".

His lordship then was in a rage,

His lordship lay upon the stage,

His lordship cry'd, All would be marr'd:
His lordship lov'd a-life the guard,

And did invite those mighty men,

To what think you? Even to a Hen.

5 Ludus dicebatur «Ignoramus," qui durabat per spatium sex horarum.

He knew he was to use their might

To help to keep the door at night,

And well bestow'd he thought his hen,

That they might Tolebooth Oxford men:

He thought it did become a lord

To threaten with that bug-bear word.

Now pass we to the civil law,

And eke the doctors of the spaw,
Who all perform'd their parts so well,
Sir Edward Ratcliff" bore the bell,

Who was, by the kings own appointment,
To speak of spells, and magick oyntment.

The doctors of the civil law

Urg'd ne're a reason worth a straw;

And though they went in silk and satten,

They Thomson-like clip'd the kings Latine;

& Idem quod Bocardo apud Oxon.

7 Insigniss. stultus.

8 Paulus Tompsonus, qui nuper læsæ majest. reus ob aurum decurtat.

But yet his grace did pardon then
All treasons against Priscian.

Here no man spake ought to the point,
But all they said was out of joint;
Just like the chappel ominous

W colledge called God with us:
Just nuly9 doth stand much awry,
d south, yes verily.

Philosophers did

their parts,

Which prov'd them m

rs of their arts;

Their moderator was no fo

He far from Cambridge kept a

ool:

The country did such store afford,

The proctors might not speak a word

9 Decorum quia Coll. est puritanorum plenu Emanuel.

But to conclude, the king was pleas'd,
And of the court the town was eas'd:
Yet Oxford though (dear sister) hark yet,
The king is gone but to New-market,
And comes again e're it be long,

Then

you may make another song.

The king being gone from Trini

They make a scramble for

Masters of all sorts, an

ages,

eyes, pages,

Keepers, subcizers.

Re me now, Good

The prest his lordship wondrous hard, His lordship then did want the guard; so did they throng him for the nonce, Until he blest them all at once,

And cryed, Hodiissimè:

Omnes Magistri estote.

Nor is this all which we do sing,

For of your praise the world must ring:
Reader, unto your tackling look,

For there is coming forth a book
Will spoyl Joseph Barnesius

The sale of Rex Platonicus.