He
never sits up late but when he hunts the badger, the vowed foe of his
lambs; nor uses he any cruelty but when he hunts the hare; nor subtilty
but when he setteth snares for the snipe or pitfalls for the blackbird;
nor oppression but when, in the month of July, he goes to the next river
and shears his sheep. He allows of honest pastime, and thinks not the
bones of the dead anything bruised or the worse for it though the
country lasses dance in the churchyard after evensong. Rock Monday and
the wake in summer, Shrovings, the wakeful catches on Christmas Eve, the
hockey or seed-cake, these he yearly keeps, yet holds them no relics of
popery. He is not so inquisitive after news derived from the privy
closet, when the finding an eyry of hawks in his own ground, or the
foaling of a colt come of a good strain, are tidings more pleasant, more
profitable. He is lord paramount within himself, though he hold by never
so mean a tenure, and dies the more contentedly, though he leave his
heir young, in regard he leaves him not liable to a covetous garden.
Lastly, to end him, he cares not when his end comes; he needs not fear
his audit, for his quietus is in heaven.
A RHYMER
Is a fellow whose face is hatched all over with impudence, and should he
be hanged or pilloried, 'tis armed for it. He is a juggler with words,
yet practises the art of most uncleanly conveyance. He doth boggle very
often, and because himself winks at it, thinks 'tis not perceived. The
main thing that ever he did was the tune he sang to.
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