Classic Poem

Of Gnatho.

My Lord most court-like lyes in bed till noone,
Then, all high-stomackt riseth to his dinner,
Falls straight to Dice, before his meate be downe,
Or to disgest, walks to some femall sinner.
Perhaps fore-tyrde he gets him to a play,
Comes home to supper, and then falls to dice,
There his deuotion wakes till it be day,
And so to bed, where vntill noone he lies.
This is a Lords life, simple folke will sing.
A Lords life? what, to trot so foule a ring?
Yet thus he liues, and what's the greatest griefe,
Gnatho still sweares he leads true vertues life.