his audit, for his quietus is in heaven.



A RHYMER

Is a fellow whose face is hatched all over with impudence, and should he
be hanged or pilloried, 'tis armed for it. He is a juggler with words,
yet practises the art of most uncleanly conveyance. He doth boggle very
often, and because himself winks at it, thinks 'tis not perceived. The
main thing that ever he did was the tune he sang to. There is nothing in
the earth so pitiful--no, not an ape-carrier; he is not worth thinking
of, and, therefore, I must leave him as nature left him--a dunghill not
well laid together.



A COVETOUS MAN.

This man would love, honour, and adore God if there were an _I_ more in
his name. He hath coffined up his soul in his chests before his body: he
could wish he were in Midas his taking for hunger, on condition he had
his chemical quality. At the grant of a new subsidy he would gladly hang
himself, were it not for the charge of buying a rope, and begins to take
money upon use when he hears of a privy seal. His morning prayer is to
overlook his bags, whose every parcel begets his adoration. Then to his
studies, which are how to cozen this tenant, beggar that widow, or to
undo some orphan. Then his bonds are viewed, the well-known days of
payment conned by heart; and if he ever pray, it is some one may break
his day that the beloved forfeiture may be obtained. His use is doubled,