A Puthagorass' sowles transmigration Volpone
B Johnso:
yis but fro ye moylie 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 wth reverend purple so you can hide his two ambitiouse ears, and he shall pass for a Cathedrall 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 Sweet Caelia let us prove
While we may ye sports of Love
Time will not be ors for ever
He at length or blisse will sever
Spen not then his giftes in vaine
Suns that set, may rise againe.
But if we once loose this light
It's wth us perpetuall night
Why should we defer or joys
Fame, & Rumour, are but toyes.
Cannote we delude the eyes?
Of a few poore household spyes.
And his easier eares beguile,
Soe remov'd by many a mile.
It's no sinne loves fruits to steale,
But the sweet thefts to reveale.
To be taken, to be seneseene>
These hath crimes accounted beene.
By Volpone, in Volpone (3.7.164-182), Ben Jonson
in British Library Additional MS 10309, f.117r