Cuffe comes to church much: but he keeps his bed Those Sundays only whenas briefs are read. This makes Cuffe dull; and troubles him the most, Because he cannot sleep i' th' church free cost.
Old wives have often told how they Saw Cupid bitten by a flea; And thereupon, in tears half drown'd, He cried aloud: Help, help the wound! He wept, he sobb'd, he call'd to some...
We read how Faunus, he the shepherds' god, His wife to death whipped with a myrtle rod. The rod, perhaps, was better'd by the name; But had it been of birch, the death's the same.
Why walks Nick Flimsey like a malcontent! Is it because his money all is spent? No, but because the dingthrift now is poor, And knows not where i' th' world to borrow more.
Flood, if he has for him and his a bit, He says his fore and after grace for it: If meat he wants, then grace he says to see His hungry belly borne on legs jail-free....
Fone says, those mighty whiskers he does wear Are twigs of birch, and willow, growing there: If so, we'll think too, when he does condemn Boys to the lash, that he does whip with them.
Since Gander did his pretty youngling wed, Gander, they say, doth each night piss a-bed: What is the cause? Why, Gander will reply, No goose lays good eggs that is trodden dry.
Glasco had none, but now some teeth has got; Which though they fur, will neither ache or rot. Six teeth he has, whereof twice two are known Made of a haft that was a mutton bone....
Glass, out of deep, and out of desp'rate want, Turn'd from a Papist here a Predicant. A vicarage at last Tom Glass got here, Just upon five and thirty pounds a year....