 | More fooles yet |  |
In Fabulosum.
My word (sweares Fabulus) can now be taneFor all the sutes that are in Birchin lane.
The quaintest sute of Sattin that is there.
Lilkewise he can without or bond or bill,
Take vp of any Scriuener what he will:
Yet doth he scorne to be oblig'd to such,
Whose imperfections any penne can tutch.
As for his dyet, Vintners doe request
He would vouchsafe to be their dayly guest:
And swears he may cōmand more wine a'the score,
Then will make drunke 3 thousand men & more.
Yet doth he scorne now by faire Phebus shine,
To be indebted for a cuppe of wine:
But Fabulus you lye, else why goest bare,
Why pennilesse, why do'st thou hardly fare
If such would trust thee? trust thee, no not these,
For clout, for crosse, for penny worth of cheese.
| More fooles yet | |