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Page 125:-
Thence to Lonesdale, where were at it
Boys that scorn'd Quart Ale by Statute;
Till they stagger'd, stammer'd, stumbled,
Railed, reeled, rolled, tumbled;
Musing I should be so stranged,
I resolv'd them I was changed.
To the sink of Sin they drew me,
Where like Hogs in Mire they threw me;
Or like Dogs unto their Vomit,
But their Purpose I o'ercomed;
With shut Eyes I flung in Anger
From those Mates of Death and Danger.
Mirtil. Surely (Faustulus) I do wonder
How thou, who so long liv'd under
Bacchus, where choice Wits resounded,
Should'st be thus i' th' World drowned.
What do'st, where liv'st, in brief deliver,
Wilt thou be a Worldling ever?
Faustul. Thou err'st (Mirtillus) and wrongst
me too,
If tou think'st I never go to
Bacchus' Temple, which I follow,
"Once a Year laughs wise Apollo;
Where I drench Grief's slight Physicians,
Hair I change, but no Conditions.
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