him, I think he would have persuaded me to have wished myself a
horse. But thus much, at least, with his no few words, he drove
into me, that self love is better than any gilding, to make that
seem gorgeous wherein ourselves be parties.

Wherein, if Pugliano's strong affection and weak arguments will not
satisfy you, I will give you a nearer example of myself, who, I know
not by what mischance, in these my not old years and idlest times,
having slipped into the title of a poet, am provoked to say
something unto you in the defence of that my unelected vocation;
which if I handle with more good will than good reasons, bear with
me, since the scholar is to be pardoned that followeth the steps of
his master.

And yet I must say, that as I have more just cause to make a pitiful
defence of poor poetry, which, from almost the highest estimation of
learning, is fallen to be the laughing-stock of children; so have I
need to bring some more available proofs, since the former is by no
man barred of his deserved credit, whereas the silly latter hath had
even the names of philosophers used to the defacing of it, with
great danger of civil war among the Muses. {2}

At first, truly, to all them that, professing learning, inveigh
against poetry, may justly be objected, that they go very near to
ungratefulness to seek to deface that which, in the noblest nations
and languages that are known, hath been the first light-giver to
ignorance, and first nurse, whose milk by little and little enabled
them to feed afterwards of tougher knowledges. And will you play
the hedgehog, that being received into the den, drove out his host?
{3} or rather the vipers, that with their birth kill their parents?