A SOLDIER

Is the husbandman of valour; his sword is his plough, which honour and aqua vita, two fiery-metalled jades, are ever drawing.  A younger brother best becomes arms, an elder the thanks for them.  Every heat makes him a harvest, and discontents abroad are his sowers.  He is actively his prince’s, but passively his anger’s servant.  He is often a desirer of learning, which once arrived at, proves his strongest armour.  He is a lover at all points, and a true defender of the faith of women.  More wealth than makes him seem a handsome foe, lightly he covets not, less is below him.  He never truly wants but in much having, for then his ease and lechery afflict him.  The word peace, though in prayer, makes him start, and God he best considers by His power.  Hunger and cold rank in the same file with him, and hold him to a man; his honour else, and the desire of doing things beyond him, would blow him greater than the sons of Anak.  His religion is, commonly, as his cause is, doubtful, and that the best devotion keeps best quarter.  He seldom sees grey hairs, some none at all, for where the sword fails, there the flesh gives fire.  In charity he goes beyond the clergy, for he loves his greatest enemy best, much drinking.  He seems a full student, for he is a great desirer of controversies; he argues sharply, and carries his conclusion in his scabbard.  In the first refining of mankind this was the gold, his actions are his amel.  His alloy (for else you cannot work him perfectly) continual duties, heavy and weary marches, lodgings as full of need as cold diseases.  No time to argue, but to execute.  Line him with these, and link him to his squadrons, and he appears a most rich chain for princes.

A TAILOR

Is a creature made up of threads that were pared off from Adam, when he was rough cast; the end of his being differeth from that of others, and is not to serve God, but to cover sin.  Other men’s pride is the best patron, and their negligence a main passage to his profit.  He is a thing of more than ordinary judgment:  for by virtue of that he buyeth land, buildeth houses, and raiseth the set roof of his cross-legged fortune.  His actions are strong encounters, and for their notoriousness always upon record.  It is neither Amadis de Gaul, nor the Knight of the Sun, that is able to resist them.  A ten-groat fee setteth them on foot, and a brace of officers bringeth them to execution.  He handleth the Spanish pike to the hazard of many poor Egyptian vermin; and in show of his valour, scorneth a greater gauntlet than will cover the top of his middle finger.  Of all weapons he most affecteth the long bill; and this he will manage to the great prejudice of a customer’s estate.  His spirit, notwithstanding, is not so much as to make you think him man; like a true mongrel, he neither bites nor barks but when your back is towards him.  His