nesses; and his company is costly to him, for he
seldom has it but invited. His friendship commonly is begun in a supper,
and lost in lending money. The tavern is a dangerous place to him, for
to drink and be drunk is with him all one, and his brain is sooner
quenched than his thirst. He is drawn into naughtiness with company, but
suffers alone, and the bastard commonly laid to his charge. One that
will be patiently abused, and take exception a month after when he
understands it, and then be abused again into a reconcilement; and you
cannot endear him more than by cozening him, and it is a temptation to
those that would not. One discoverable in all silliness to all men but
himself, and you may take any man's knowledge of him better than his
own. He will promise the same thing to twenty, and rather than deny one
break with all. One that has no power over himself, over his business,
over his friends, but a prey and pity to all; and if his fortunes once
sink, men quickly cry, Alas!--and forget him.

A TOBACCO-SELLER

Is the only man that finds good in it which others brag of but do not;
for it is meat, drink, and clothes to him. No man opens his ware with
greater seriousness, or challenges your judgment more in the
approbation. His shop is the rendezvous of spitting, where men dialogue
with their noses, and their communication is smoke.[47] It is the place
only where Spain is commended and preferred before England itself. He
should be well experienced in the world, for he has daily trial of men's
nostrils, and none is better acquainted with humours. He is the piecing
commonly of some other trade, which is bawd to his tobacco, and that to
his wife, which is the flame that follows this smoke.

A POT-POET

Is the dregs of wit, yet mingled with good drink may have some relish.
His inspirations are more real than others, for they do but feign a God,
but he has his by him. His verse runs like the tap, and his invention as
the barrel, ebbs and flows at the mercy of the spigot. In thin drink he
aspires not above a ballad, but a cup of sack inflames him, and sets his
muse and nose a-fire together. The press is his mint, and stamps him now
and then a sixpence or two in reward of the baser coin his pamphlet. His
works would scarce sell for three half-pence, though they are given oft
for three shillings, but for the pretty title that allures the country
gentleman; for which the printer maintains him in ale a fortnight. His