of
dissembling, for, like a fellow that rides to the pillory, he goes not
that way he looks. He keeps such a bawling at Westminster, that, if the
lawyers were not acquainted with it, an order would be taken with him.
When he is upon the water he is fair company; when he comes ashore he
mutinies, and, contrary to all other trades, is most surly to gentlemen
when they tender payment. The playhouses only keep him sober, and, as it
doth many other gallants, make him an afternoon's man. London Bridge is
the most terrible eyesore to him that can be. And, to conclude, nothing
but a great press makes him fly from the river, nor anything but a great
frost can teach him any good manners.

A REVEREND JUDGE

Is one that desires to have his greatness only measured by his goodness.
His care is to appear such to the people as he would have them be, and
to be himself such as he appears; for virtue cannot seem one thing and
be another. He knows that the hill of greatness yields a most delightful
prospect; but, withal, that it is most subject to lightning and thunder,
and that the people, as in ancient tragedies, sit and censure the
actions of those in authority. He squares his own, therefore, that they
may far be above their pity. He wishes fewer laws, so they were better
observed; and for those are mulctuary, he understands their institution
not to be like briers or springs, to catch everything they lay hold of,
but, like sea-marks on our dangerous Goodwin, to avoid the shipwreck of
innocent passengers. He hates to wrong any man: neither hope nor despair
of preferment can draw him to such an exigent. He thinks himself most
honourably seated when he gives mercy the upper hand. He rather strives
to purchase good name than land; and of all rich stuffs forbidden by the
statute, loathes to have his followers wear their clothes cut out of
bribes and extortions. If his Prince call him to higher place, there he
delivers his mind plainly and freely, knowing for truth there is no
place wherein dissembling ought to have less credit than in a prince's
council. Thus honour keeps peace with him to the grave, and doth not (as
with many) there forsake him, and go back with the heralds; but fairly
sits over him, and broods out of his memory many right excellent
commonwealth's-men.

A VIRTUOUS WIDOW

Is the palm-tree, that thrives not after the supplanting of her husband.
For her children's sake she first marries; for she married that she