A knave is the scum of wit and the scorn of reason, the hate of wisdom and the dishonour of humanity.  He is the danger of society and the hurt of amity, the infection of youth and the corruption of age.  He is a traitor to affiance and abuse to employment, and a rule of villainy in a plot of mischief.  He hath a cat’s eye and a bear’s paw, a siren’s tongue and a serpent’s sting.  His words are lies, his oaths perjuries, his studies subtilties, and his practices villainies; his wealth is his wit, his honour is his wealth, his glory is his gain, and his god is his gold.  He is no man’s friend and his own enemy; cursed on earth and banished from heaven.  He was begotten ungraciously, born untimely, lives dishonestly, and dies shamefully.  His heart is a puddle of poison, his tongue a sting of iniquity, his brain a distiller of deceit, and his conscience a compass of hell.  In sum, he is a dog in disposition, a fox in wit, a wolf in his prey, and a devil in his pride.

AN USURER.

An usurer is a figure of misery, who hath made himself a slave to his money.  His eye is closed from pity, and his hand from charity; his ear from compassion, and his heart from piety.  While he lives he is the hate of a Christian, and when he dies he goes with horror to hell.  His study is sparing, and his care is getting; his fear is wanting, and his death is losing.  His diet is either fasting or poor fare, his clothing the hangman’s wardrobe, his house the receptacle of thievery, and his music the clinking of his money.  He is a kind of cancer that with the teeth of interest eats the hearts of the poor, and a venomous fly that sucks out the blood of any flesh that he lights on.  In sum, he is a servant of dross, a slave to misery, an agent for hell, and a devil in the world.

A BEGGAR.

A beggar is the child of idleness, whose life is a resolution of ease.  His travail is most in the highways, and his rendezvous is commonly in an ale-house.  His study is to counterfeit impotency, and his practice to cozen simplicity of charity.  The juice of the malt is the liquor of his life, and at bed and at board a louse is his companion.  He fears no such enemy as a constable, and being acquainted with the stocks, must visit them as he goes by them.  He is a drone that feeds upon the labours of the bee, and unhappily begotten that is born for no goodness.  His staff and his scrip are his walking furniture, and what he lacks in meat he will have out in drink.  He is a kind of caterpillar that spoils much good fruit, and an unprofitable creature to live in a commonwealth.  He is seldom handsome and often noisome, always troublesome and never welcome.  He prays for all and preys upon all; begins with blessing but ends often with cursing.  If he have a licence he shows it with a grace, but if he have none he is submissive to the ground.  Sometime he is a thief, but always a rogue, and in the nature of his profession the shame of humanity.  In sum, he is commonly begot in a bush, born in a barn, lives in a highway, and dies in a ditch.