A Pythagoras' soul transmigration. Volpone
Ben Jonson
But from the mule into whom didst thou pass ?
By Nano, in Volpone (1.2.42-47), Ben Jonson
in Bodleian Library MS Rawlinson poetry 142, f. 19v

Hood an Ass with reverend purple so you can hide his two ambitious ears, and he shall pass for a Cathedral Doctor
By Mosca, in Volpone (1.2.111-113), Ben Jonson
in Bodleian Library MS Rawlinson poetry 117, f.164r (rev)

By Ben Jonson
Come my Caelia let us prove
While we can the sports of Love
Time will not be ours for ever
He at length our good will sever
spend not then his giftes in vain
Suns that set, may rise again.
But if once we lose this light
'Tis with us perpetual night
Why should we defer our joys
Fame, & Rumour, are but toys.
Cannote we delude the eyes?
Of a few poor household spies.
Or his easier ears beguile,
Thus removèd by our wile.
It's no sin loves fruits to steal,
But the sweet thefts to reveal.
To be taken, to be seneseene>
These have crimes accounted been.
By Volpone, in Volpone (3.7.164-182), Ben Jonson
in British Library Additional MS 10309, f.117r