 | To Rash Iudgement, Tom Foole, and his fellowes |  |
A Foole and his Money is soone parted.
A gallant that had Gold to play withall,Into a cunning Shifters hands did fall,
That would instruct him of a Brewers Kettell,
To make the Soue'raigne and the Angell mettall:
And swore he had found out old Raymonds tricke,
To make good Gold of a Brasse-candlesticke:
Lothburie where the Brasiers doe abide,
He could make ten times richer then Cheap-side.
All Tombes of Brasse (might hee but haue his will)
Should turne to massie Gold by perfect skill:
In Fryer-Bacon hee was rarely read,
That wrought such wonders with the Brazen head;
And could teach Kelley the Elixar stone:
But hee reserues it for this friend alone.
Thus with his Lyes, hee playd the Knaue at full,
And got so many hundreds of the Gull,
Till all was gon, hee plainly did perceiue;
And then without farewell, hee tooke his leaue:
The nouice pulld his haire and beate his fist,
And sayd, this Alchimist prooues, All is mist.
| To Rash Iudgement, Tom Foole, and his fellowes | |