The workes of Beniamin Ionson

Act III. Scene III.

CRITES.

DOe, good detraction, doe, and I the while Shall shake thy spight off with a carelesse smile. Poore pittious gallants! What leane idle sleights Their thoughts suggest to flatter their staru'd hopes? As if I knew not how to entertaine These straw-deuices: but, of force, must yeeld To the weake stroke of their calumnious tongues. What should I care what euery dor doth buzze In credulous cares? it is a crowne to me, That the best iudgements can report me wrong'd; Them lyars; and their slanders impudent. Perhaps (vpon the rumour of their speeches) Some grieued friend will whisper to me, CRITES, Men speake ill of thee; so they be ill men, If they spake worse, 'twere better: for of such To be disprais'd, is the most perfect praise. What can his censure hurt me, whom the world Hath censur'd vile before me? If good CHRESTVS, EVTHVS, or PHRONIMVS, had spoke the words, They would haue moou'd me, and I should haue call'd

My thoughts, and actions, to a strict accompt Vpon the hearing: But when I remember, 'Tis HEDON, and ANAIDES: alasse, then, I thinke but what they are, and am not stirr'd. The one, a light voluptuous reueller, The other a strange arrogating puffe, Both impudent, and ignorant inough; That talke (as they are wont) not as I merit: Traduce by custome, as most dogges doe barke, Doe nothing out of judgement, but disease, Speake ill, because they neuer could speake well. And who'ld be angry with this race of creatures? What wise physician haue we euer seene Moou'd with a frantike man? the same affects That he doth beare to his sicke patient, Should a right minde carrie to such as these: And I doe count it a most rare reuenge, That I can thus (with such a sweet neglect) Plucke from them all the pleasure of their malice. For that's the marke of all their inginous drifts, To wound my patience, howsoe're they seeme To aime at other obiects: which if miss'd, Their enui's like an arrow, shot vpright, That, in the fall, indangers their owne heads.