mud in chrystall. Like a man of a kind nature, he is the first good to himselfe; in the next file, to his French taylor, that gives him all his perfection: for indeed, like an estridge, or bird of paradise, his feathers are more worth then his body. If ever he doe good deed (which is very seldome) his owne mouth is the chronicle of it, lest it should die forgotten. His whole body goes all upon srewes, and his face is the vice that moves them. If his patron be given to musicke, he opens his chops, and sings, or with a wrie necke, fals to tuning his instrument : if that faile, he takes the height of his lord with a hawking pole. He followes the mans fortune, not the man seeking thereby to increase his owne. He pretends he is most undeservedly envied, and cries out, remembering the game, chesse, that a pawne before a king is most playd on. Debts hee owes none, but shrewd turns, and those he payes ere he be sued. He is a flattering glasse to conceale age, and wrinkles. He is mountaines monkie, that climbing a tree, and skipping from bough to bough, gives you backe his face; but come once to the top, he holds his nose up into the wind, and shewes you his tayle: yet all this gay glitter, shewes on him, as if the sunne shone in a puddle; for he is a small wine that will not last; and when he is falling, hee goes of himselfe faster than misery can drive him.

A faire and happy Milk-mayd

S a countrey wench, that is so farre from making her selfe beautifull by art, that one looke of hers is able to put all facephysicke out of countenance. She knowes a faire looke is but a dumbe orator to commend vertue, therefore minds it not. All her excellencies stand in her so silently, as if they had stolne upon her without her knowledge. The lining of her apparell (which is her selfe) is farre better then out sides of tissew for though she be not arrayed in the spoile of the silke-worme, shee is deckt in innocency, a far better wearing. She doth not, with lying long abed, spoile both her complexion and conditions; nature hath taught her, too immoderate sleepe is rust to the soule she rises therefore with chaunticleare, her dames cock, and at night makes the lamb her courfew. In milking a cow, and straining the teats through her fingers, it seemes that so sweet a milk-presse makes the milk the whiter or sweeter; for never came almond glove or aromatique oyntment on her palme to taint it. The golden eares of corne fall and kisse her feet when shee reapes them, as if they wisht to be bound and led prisoners by the same hand that fell'd them. Her breath is her own, which sents all the yeare long of June, like a new made

hay-cock. She makes her hand hard with labour, and her heart soft with pitty: and when winter evenings fall early (sitting at her merry wheele) she sings a defiance to the giddy wheele of fortune. She doth all things with so sweet a grace, it seems ignorance will not suffer her to doe ill, being her mind is to doe well. She bestowes her yeares wages at next faire; and in choosing her garments, counts no bravery i'th' world, like decencie. The garden and bee-hive are all her physick and chyrurgery, and she lives the longer for't. She dares goe alone, and unfold sheepe i'th' night, and feares no manner of ill, because she meanes none: yet to say truth, she is never alone, for she is still accompanied with old songs, honest thoughts, and prayers, but short ones; yet they have their efficacy, in that they are not pauled with insuing idle cogitations. Lastly, her dreames are so chaste, that shee dare tell them; only a Fridaies dream is all her superstition: that she conceales for feare of anger. Thus lives she, and all her care is she may die in the spring-time, to have store of flowers stucke upon her windingsheet.

An arrant Horse-courser

ATH the trick to blow up horse-flesh, as the butcher doth veale, which shall wash

out again in twice riding twixt Waltham

and London. The trade of spurre-making had decayed long since, but for this ungodly tyre-man. He is curst all over the foure ancient high-wayes of England; none but the blind men that sell switches i'th' road are beholding to him. His stable is fill'd with so many diseases, one would thinke most part about Smithfield were an hospitall for horses, or a slaughter-house for the common-hunt. Let him furnish you with a hackney, 'tis as much as if the kings warrant overtooke you within ten miles to stay your journey. And though a man cannot say, he couzens you directly; yet any ostler within ten miles, should he be brought upon his book-oath, will affirme he hath laid a bayt for you. Resolve when you first stretch your selfe in the stirrops, you are put as it were upon some usurer, that will never beare with you past his day. He were good to make one that had the collick alight often, and (if example will cause him) make urine; let him onely for that say, Gra' mercy horse. For his sale of horses, hee hath false covers for all manner of diseases, onely comes short of one thing (which he despaires not utterly to

bring to perfection) to make a horse goe on a wodden leg and two crutches. For powdring his eares with quicksilver, and giving him suppositories of live eeles he's expert. All the while you are a cheapning, he fears you will not bite; but hee laughs in his sleeve, when he hath coozened you in earnest. Frenchmen are his best chapmen, he keeps amblers for them on purpose, and knowes he can deceive them very easily. Hee is so constant to his trade, that while hee is awake, he tires any man he talkes with, and when he's asleep, he dreams very fearfully of the paving of Smithfield, for hee knowes it would founder his occupation.

A Roaring Boy.

IS life is a meere counterfet patent: which neverthelesse makes many a countrey justice tremble. Don Quixotes water-mills are still scotch bagpipes to him. He sends challenges by word of mouth: for he protests (as he is a gentleman and a brother of the sword) he can neither write nor read. He hath runne through divers parcels of land, and great houses, beside both the counters. If any private quarrell happen among our great courtiers, he proclaimes the businesse, that's the word, the businesse; as if the united forces