rench or Italian,
and his gait cries, Behold me. He censures all things by countenances
and shrugs, and speaks his own language with shame and lisping; he will
choke rather than confess beer good drink, and his pick-tooth is a main
part of his behaviour. He chooseth rather to be counted a spy than not a
politician, and maintains his reputation by naming great men familiarly.
He chooseth rather to tell lies than not wonders, and talks with men
singly; his discourse sounds big, but means nothing; and his boy is
bound to admire him howsoever. He comes still from great personages, but
goes with mean. He takes occasion to show jewels given him in regard of
his virtue, that were bought in St. Martin's; and not long after having
with a mountebank's method pronounced them worth thousands, impawneth
them for a few shillings. Upon festival days he goes to court, and
salutes without resaluting; at night in an ordinary he canvasseth the
business in hand, and seems as conversant with all intents and plots as
if he begot them. His extraordinary account of men is, first to tell
them the ends of all matters of consequence, and then to borrow money of
them; he offers courtesies to show them, rather than himself, humble. He
disdains all things above his reach, and preferreth all countries before
his own. He imputeth his want and poverty to the ignorance of the time,
not his own unworthiness; and concludes his discourse with half a
period, or a word, and leaves the rest to imagination. In a word, his
religion is fashion, and both body and soul are governed by fame; he
loves most voices above truth.

A WISE MAN

Is the truth of the true definition of man, that is, a reasonable
creature. His disposition alters; he alters not. He hides himself with
the attire of the vulgar; and in indifferent things is content to be
governed by them. He looks according to nature; so goes his behaviour.
His mind enjoys a continual smoothness; so cometh it that his
consideration is always at home. He endures the faults of all men
silently, except his friends, and to them he is the mirror of their
actions; by this means, his peace cometh not from fortune, but himself.
He is cunning in men, not to surprise, but keep his own, and beats off
their ill-affected humours no otherwise than if they were flies. He
chooseth not friends by the Subsidy-book, and is not luxurious after
acquaintance. He maintains the strength of his body, not by delicates
but temperance