Cal.
By your leave, Doctor, Your zeale here smells a little too much of the Coward: Did your dying Saviour endure the base Scoffes, and bitter Taunts of the Iewes, for your sake, and is your Reputati∣on so dainty, not to abide a little jeering for his sake? Will your zeale sell Gods honour for the impatience of a Scoffe? Were it your own case, I feare, Your wit would finde spirit enough, either to con∣temne it, or retort it: But you will away, and complaine to God in a Corner: Mettal to the back! Doctor, He that refuses the vindi∣cation of Gods honour, denies him; And he that denies him at Court, him will God deny in his Chamber: Can you heare your Soveraigne abused and be silent? perchance (as the case now stands) you can, and make one for company, too, if you feare not his prevayling power. But can you heare your bosome friend injuri∣ously reviled, and lend him no Apology, but run away; and whi∣sper in his eare a tedious Complaint? If this you can, you are no friend for me: This (if your zeale belie not your conscience) must serve Gods turne, nay more, you have done your duty too.