University of Virginia Library

Epig. 16. The Prodigall.

See in a Tavern where Calianax sits,
Spending his coine, and dulling of his witts,
His painted Cockatrice doth sit him nigh,
(Who hath the marrow from his bones drawn drie)
His naked crown a Perriwig doth cover,
See how he courts her like an amorous Lover,
Foole, she more deadly is, thou dost imbrace,
Then th'juice of Hemlock, or the loathed Race
Of Scorpions, her poysonous breath more hot
Then Ætna's fumes, by Earth and Ayre begot,
Who, when thou hast thy Lands morgag'd away,
And beg'st for food, will smile at thy decay,
And having fill'd thy body full of sores,
Will laugh to see thee turned out of doores,
Despised by all men, when too late t'will bee
To wish for that, thou hast spent Id'ly.