The garden and beehive are all her
physic and chirurgery, and she lives the longer for it. She dares go
alone and unfold sheep in the night, and fears no manner of ill because
she means none; yet, to say truth, she is never alone, for she is still
accompanied with old songs, honest thoughts, and prayers, but short
ones; yet they have their efficacy, in that they are not palled with
ensuing idle cogitations. Lastly, her dreams are so chaste that she dare
tell them: only a Friday's dream is all her superstition; that she
conceals for fear of anger. Thus lives she, and all her care is that she
may die in the spring-time, to have store of flowers stuck upon her
winding-sheet.
AN ARRANT HORSE-COURSER
Hath the trick to blow up horse-flesh, as the butcher doth veal, which
shall wash out again in twice riding betwixt Waltham and London. The
trade of spur-making had decayed long since, but for this ungodly
tireman. He is cursed all over the four ancient highways of England;
none but the blind men that sell switches in the road are beholding to
him. His stable is filled with so many diseases, one would think most
part about Smithfield was an hospital for horses, or a slaughter-house
of the common hunt. Let him furnish you with a hackney, it is as much as
if the King's warrant overtook you within ten miles to stay your
journey. And though a man cannot say he cozens you directly, yet any
hostler within ten miles, should he be brought upon his book-oath, will
affirm he hath laid a bait for you.
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