Of Phrix.

Phrix hath a nose; who doubts what ech man knows;
But what hath Phrix know-worth besides his nose?

Of Clodius.

Clodius me thinks looks passing big of late,
With Dunstons browes, and Allens Cutlacks gate:
What humours haue possest him so, I wonder,
His eyes are lightning, and his words are thunder:
What meanes the Bragart by his alteration?
He knows he's known too wel, for this fond fashion
To cause him to be feard: what meanes he than?
Belike, because he cannot play the man,
Yet would be awde, he keepes this filthy reuell,
Stalking and roaring like to Iobs great deuill.

Of the same.

Pardon me (Reader) I will not bewray
Who Naeuia is, not that I feare to say,
But that he should be punishd I am loth,
For engrossing occupations as he doth.
He is a Lawyer, and a Merchant to,
And shortly will I doubt haue more to do:
He is a busie fellow, and may be
A knaue Promoter for his honesty.

Of the same.

Naeuia's a Merchant, and a Gentleman:
That is, scarce honest, liue he how he can.

Of Naeuia.

Naeuia is one while of the Innes of Court,
Toyling in Brooke, Fitzherbert , and in Dyer:
Another while th'Exchange he doth resort,
Moyling as fast, a seller, and a buyer:
Will not he thriue (think yee) who can deuise,
Thus to vnite the law and merchandise?
Doubtlesse he will, or cosen out of doubt;
What matter's that? his law will beare him out.

Of Chrestina.

I told Chrestina I would lie with her,
When she with an old phrase doth me aduise,
To keepe my selfe from water and from fier,
And she would keepe me from betwixt her thighs,
That there is water I doe make no doubt,
But Il'e be loth (wench) to be fired out.

To Licus.

Licus , thou art deceau'd in saying, that
I'me a fine man: thou saist thou knowst not what.
He's fine fellow who is neate and fine,
Whose locks are kem'd, & neuer a tangled twine,
Who smels of Musk, Ciuet, and Pomander,
Who spends, and out-spends many a pound a yeare,
Who piertly iets, can caper, daunce, and sing,
Play with his Mistris fingers, her hand wring,
Who companying with wenches nere is still:
But either skips or mowes, or prates his fill,
Who is at euery play, and euery night

Of the same.

With what conscience can Metius sell law deare,
When of meere almes he was made Barrister?

Of Metius.

Metius of late hath greatly cosend me,
I tooke him for an earnest Catholike,
He talk'd so much of almes and charity;
But I was mightily deceau'd belike.
He praiseth charity and almes, because
He was made Barrister for almes, not lawes.

Of Cotta.

I wonder ( Cotta ) Paynters Art can like thee,
Who drew thy picture being nothing like thee.