Are these the fruits of all my travail and expenses? Is this the scope and aim of thy studies? Are these the hopeful courses wherewith I have so long flattered my expectation from thee? Verses? Poetry? Ovid, whom I thought to see the pleader, become Ovid the play-maker?

OVI. JUN. No, sir.

OVI. SEN. Yes, sir. I hear of a tragedy of yours coming forth for the common players there, called Medea. By my household gods, if I come to the acting of it, I'll add one tragic part more than is yet expected to it: believe me when I promise it. What? Shall I have my son a stager now? An ingle for players? A gull? A rook? A shot-clog? To make suppers, and be laughed at? Publius, I will set thee on the funeral pile first.

OVI. JUN. Sir, I beseech you to have patience.

LUS. Nay, this 'tis to have your ears dammed up to good counsel. I did augur all this to him aforehand, without poring into an ox's paunch for the matter, and yet he would not be scrupulous.

TUC. How now, goodman slave? What, rowl powl? All rivals, rascal? Why my master of worship, dost hear? Are these thy best projects? Is this thy designs and thy discipline, to suffer knaves to be competitors with commanders and gent'men? Are we parallels, rascal? Are we parallels?

OVI. SEN. Sirrah, go get my horses ready. You'll still be prating.

TUC. Do, you perpetual stinkard, do, go, talk to tapsters and ostlers, you slave, they are i' your element, go: here be the Emperor's captains, you ragamuffin rascal, and not your comrades.

 

Exit Luscus

 

LUP. Indeed, Marcus Ovid, these players are an idle generation, and do much harm in a state, corrupt young gentry very much, I know it: I have not been a tribune thus long, and observed nothing: besides, they will rob us, us, that are magistrates, of our respect, bring us upon their stages, and make us ridiculous to the plebeians; they will play you, or me, the wisest men they can come by still; me: only to bring us in contempt with the vulgar, and make us cheap.

TUC. Thou art in the right, my venerable cropshin, they will indeed: the tongue of the oracle never twanged truer. Your courtier cannot kiss his mistress's slippers, in quiet, for 'em: nor your white innocent gallant pawn his revelling suit, to make his punk a supper. An honest decayed commander cannot skelder, cheat, nor be seen in a bawdy house but he shall be straight in one of their wormwood comedies. They are grown licentious, the rogues; libertines, flat libertines. They forget they are i' the statute, the rascals, they are blazoned there, there they are tricked, they and their pedigrees; they need no other heralds, iwis.

OVI. SEN. Methinks, if nothing else, yet this alone, the very reading of the public edicts should fright thee from commerce with them; and give thee distaste enough of their actions. But this betrays what a student you are: this argues your proficiency in the law.

OVI. JUN.

They wrong me, sir, and do abuse you more

That blow your ears with these untrue reports.

I am not known unto the open stage,

Nor do I traffic in their theatres.

Indeed, I do acknowledge, at request

Of some near friends and honourable Romans,

I have begun a poem of that nature.

OVI. SEN. You have, sir, a poem? And where is't? That's the law you study.

OVI. JUN.