 | To Rash Iudgement, Tom Foole, and his fellowes |  |
Arrowes shott with poysoned heads.
A fawne guest friend to suppe and dine,And close thy secrets vndermine,
To giue good wordes in presence still,
Behind thy backe speake hatefull ill;
To promise all thou wilt require,
Performing nought thou doest desire:
To prayse what ere thy actions bee,
For loue of thine, not loue of thee:
To giue the gifts of cunning growne,
Because thou giuest two for one:
To prayse the sinnes thou doest imbrace,
And pander them most vile and base:
From lending subtly to perswade,
Yet borrow, neuer to be paiyd.
To draw an other to expence,
And seeme at wast to take offence:
To be in humours iust as thou,
And deuill-like thy faults alow:
For so doth Sathan, soules abuser,
First tempt to ill, then turne accuser.
| To Rash Iudgement, Tom Foole, and his fellowes | |