King Henry the 8. most especially for his old Soveraignes. He saies we are unwise to lament the decay of timber in England: for all manner of buildings or fortification whatsoever, he desires no other thing in the world, than barrels and hoppoles. To conclude, the only two plagues he trembles at, is small beere, and the Spanish Inquisition.

A PIIANTASTIQUE.

An Improvident young Gallant.

HERE is a confederacy between him and his clothes, to be made a puppy: view him well, and you'll say his gentry sits as ill upon him, as if he had bought it with his penny. He hath more places to send money to, than the devill hath to send his spirits; and to furnish each mistresse, would make him run besides his wits, if he had any to lose. He accounts bashfulnesse the wickedst thing in the world; and therefore studies impudence. If all men were of his mind, all honesty would be out of fashion: he withers his clothes on a stage, as a sale-man is forc't to doe his sutes in Birchin-lane; and when

the play is done, if you marke his rising, 'tis with a kind of walking epilogue between the two candles, to know if his suit may passe for currant: hee studies by the discretion of his barber, to frizle like a baboone: three such would keep three the nimblest barbers in the town, from ever having leisure to weare net-garters: for when they have to doe with him, they have many irons in th' fire. He is travelled, but to little purpose; only went over for a squirt, and came back againe, yet never the more mended in his conditions, 'cause he carried himselfe along with him a scholler he pretends himselfe, and saies he hath sweat for it: but the truth is, he knowes Cornelius far better than Tacitus: his ordinary sports are cock-fights; but the most frequent, horse-races, from whence hee comes home dry-foundred. Thus when his purse hath cast her calfe, he goes downe into the country, where hee is brought to milke and white cheese like the Switzers.

A Button-maker of Amsterdam

S one that is fled over from his conscience;
and left his wife and children upon the
parish. For his knowledge, he is meere-

ly a horne-booke without a christ-crosse afore it:
and his zeale consists much in hanging his bible in a

I

Dutch button: he coozens men in the purity of his clothes and 'twas his only joy when he was on this side, to be in prison: hee cries out, "Tis impossible for any man to be damn'd, that lives in his religion, and his equivocation is true: as long as a man lives in't, he cannot; but if he die in't, there's the question. Of all feasts in the yeare, he accounts S. Georges feast the prophanest, because of S. Georges crosse, yet sointimes he doth sacrifice to his own belly; provided, that hee put off the wake of his owne nativity, or wedding, till Good Friday. If there be a great feast in the towne, though most of the wicked (as he cals them) be there, he will be sure to bee a guest, and to out-eat six of the fattest Burgers he thinks, though hee may not pray with a Jew, he may eat with a Jew: he winkes when he prayes, and thinkes he knowes the way so now to heaven, that hee can find it blindfold. Latine he accounts the language of the beast with seven heads; and when hee speakes of his owne countrey, cries, he is fled out of Babel. Lastly, his devotion is obstinacy; the only solace of his heart, contradiction; and his maine end hypocrisie.

A Distaster of the Time

S a winter grashopper all the yeare long that looks back upon harvest, with a

leane pair of checkes, never sets forward to meet it: his malice sucks up the greatest part of his owne venome, and therewith impoisoneth himselfe and this sicknesse rises rather of selfeopinion, or over-great expectation; so in the conceit of his own over-worthinesse, like a coistrell, he strives to fill himselfe with wind, and flies against it. Any mans advancement is the most capitall offence that can be to his malice: yet this envy, like Phalaris Bull, makes that a torment, first for himselfe, he prepared for others: he is a day-bed for the devill to slumber on; his bloud is of a yellowish colour; like those that have beene bitten by vipers; and his gaule flowes as thick in him as oyle in a poyson'd stomack. He infects all society, as thunder sowres wine: war or peace, dearth or plenty, makes him equally discontented. And where hee finds no cause to tax the state, he descends to raile against the rate of salt-butter. His wishes are whirlewinds; which breath'd forth, return into himselfe, and make him a most giddy and tottering vessell. When he is awake, and goes abroad, he doth but walk in his sleep, for his visitation

is directed to none; his business is nothing. He is often dumb-mad, and goes fetter'd in his owne entrailes. Religion is commonly his pretence of discontent, though he can be of all religions; therefore truly of none. Thus by unnaturalizing himselfe, some would thinke him a very dangerous fellow to the state, but he is not greatly to be fear'd for this dejection of his, is only like a rogue that goes on his knees and elbowes in the mire, to further his begging.

A meere fellow of an House

XAMINES all mens carriage but his own; and is so kind-natured to himselfe, he finds fault with all mens but his owne. He weares his apparell much after the fashion; his meanes will not suffer him come too nigh they afford him mockvelvet or satinisco; but not without the colleges next leases acquaintance: his inside is of the selfe-same fashion, not rich: but as it reflects from the glasse of selfe-liking, there Cræsus is Irus to him. He is a pedant in shew, though his title be tutor; and his pupils, in broader phrase, are schoole-boyes. On these he spends the false gallop of his tongue; and with senselesse discourse towes them along, not out of ignorance. He shewes them the rind, conceales the