Democritus, or Doctor Merry-man his Medicines against Melancholy humors. Written by S. R. [i.e. by Samuel Rowlands] |
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[A Mony-monger choyse of sureties had] |
 | Democritus, or Doctor Merry-man his Medicines |  |
[A Mony-monger choyse of sureties had]
A Mony-monger choyse of sureties had,A Countrey-fellow, plaine in russet clad:
His dowbled Mutton-taffaty, Sheepes skins,
His sleeues at hand button'd with two good pins.
Vpon his head a filthy greazy hat
That had a hole (eate thorow by some Rat)
A leather pouch, that with a Snap-haunce shut,
Two hundred Hob-nayles in his shooes were put:
The stockings that his clownish Legs did fit,
Were Kersie to the calfe, and t'other knit:
And at a word th'apparell that he wore,
Was not worth twelue-pence, sold At who giues more?
The other surety of another stuffe,
All Silke and Veluet, in his double Ruffe:
Made Lawne and Cambricke, both such common ware,
His double set, had falling band to spare.
His fashion new, with last edition stood,
His Rapier hilts embrew'd in golden bloud:
To passe his credit for a hundred pound:
So was excepted, Russet coat denay'd,
But when time came the mony should be pay'd,
And (Mounsieur Vsurer) did haunt him out,
Strange alteration strooke his hart in doubt:
For in the Counter he was gone to dwell,
And Brokers had his painted cloaths to sell;
The Vsurer then further vnderstands,
The Clōwne refus'd, was rich, and had good lands;
Ready through rage to hang himselfe, he swore,
That Sylken knaues should cozen him no more.
| Democritus, or Doctor Merry-man his Medicines | |