ALMANAC

No, to give thee Some good security, and see Pecuniam. We'll be one bound for another. This worthy Courtier. But a Sea-captain now, brave Captain Shun-field. He holds up his nose. And seasoned too, since he took salt at Sea. Here's a Gentleman, A Freshman i'the world, one Master Madrigal. And full Hope's: A dainty Scholar, and a pretty Poet! Come, thou lovest to be costive Still in thy curtsy; but I have a pill, A golden pill to purge away this melancholy. Some dosser of Fish Or Foul to fetch of. Not the devil. Oh! the only Oracle That ever peeped, or spoke out of a doublet. A sodden head, and his whole brain a possit curd! I wonder what religion he's of! Hang thee dog. Well wolf, Hyaena, you old pocky rascal, You will have the Hernia fallen down again Into your Scrotum, and I shall be sent for. I will remember then, that; and your Fistula In anon, I cured you of. What and ungrateful wretch is this? He may do some good With him perhaps. Where have you been Madrigal? Sir, by both Your worshipful Titles, and your name Mass Broker. Good morrow. A creature of two nature's, Because he has two Offices. But this is a hungry soil, And must be helped. Our sweet Songster Shall rarifie't into air. Sweeps down no cobwebs here, But sells them for cut-fingers. And the spiders, As creatures reared of dust, and cost him nothing, To fat old Ladies monkeys. Where's my fellow Fitton? With the Muses? They' were ever three in Poetry. We may have a jeer, perhaps. Who? The glory o'the Kitchen? that holds Cookery, A trade from Adam? quotes his broths and salads? And swears he's not dead yet, but translated In some immortal crust, the passed of Almonds? I was at and Olla Podrida of his making, Was a brave piece of cookery! at a funeral! But opening the potlid, he made us laugh, who'had wept all day! and sent us such a tickling Into our nostrils, as the funeral feast Had been a wedding-dinner. I, and Pseudodoxes. Marry, for most, he's Orthodox i'the Kitchen. I, and the Layties ! We first begin with our selves, & then at you, I wonder all his Clients were not there. It's indeed, Sir. When we do speak at volley, all the ill We can one of another. A very Rascal! A supercilious Rogue! he looks as if He were the Patrico — But what gingling Gipsies, And Pedlars trade in— This fury shows, if there were nothing else! And it's divine! I shall for ever hereafter, Admire the wisdom of a Cook! The Flowers did nurse! They all be gin the ncomium of Pecuniam. Her eyes their lights, and rivals to the Stars! And polished skin, whiter then Venus foot! A hair, Large as the Morning's, and her breath as sweet, As meadows after rain, and but new mown! Hermione for breasts! And Helen for a mouth! But loses by it: here the Snow thaws Snow; One frost resolves another! And glances that beguile the seers eyes! I cannot think he finisheth that. Nor mine, No, no great scholar, he writes Like a Gentleman. 'Twas excellently sung! And You still will be so, when your Grace may help it. Go forth, Whither you please, and to what company— Washing and shaving will ensue. Kick him, out He ex claims. A stinking dog, in a doublet, with foul linen. Kick him, out He ex claims. No Herald yet, a Heraldet. This is no Canter, though! Excellent! I knew he was no Rogue! Jeer you. Nor Band. Let's upon him, And if we cannot jeer him down in wit, Lay him, aboard. and your Partridges? And Trouts sent in? If he should come to feed upon poor- John ? He'll eat them, first, While they are fat. Dust, he will have enough here, to breed fleas. And his gut colon, tell his Intestina — Oh! they but rise at mention of his tripes. stay not to ask questions. A consumption, Kills where he goes. That Mony-bawd. The Law, And he does govern him