His eye is closed from pity, and his hand from charity; his ear
from compassion, and his heart from piety. While he lives he is the hate
of a Christian, and when he dies he goes with horror to hell. His study
is sparing, and his care is getting; his fear is wanting, and his death
is losing. His diet is either fasting or poor fare, his clothing the
hangman's wardrobe, his house the receptacle of thievery, and his music
the clinking of his money. He is a kind of cancer that with the teeth of
interest eats the hearts of the poor, and a venomous fly that sucks out
the blood of any flesh that he lights on. In sum, he is a servant of
dross, a slave to misery, an agent for hell, and a devil in the world.
A BEGGAR.
A beggar is the child of idleness, whose life is a resolution of ease.
His travail is most in the highways, and his rendezvous is commonly in
an ale-house. His study is to counterfeit impotency, and his practice to
cozen simplicity of charity. The juice of the malt is the liquor of his
life, and at bed and at board a louse is his companion. He fears no such
enemy as a constable, and being acquainted with the stocks, must visit
them as he goes by them. He is a drone that feeds upon the labours of
the bee, and unhappily begotten that is born for no goodness. His staff
and his scrip are his walking furniture, and what he lacks in meat he
will have out in drink. He is a kind of caterpillar that spoils much
good fruit, and an unprofitable creature to live in a commonwealth.
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