cannot say any time is lost by him; nor hath he only years to approve he hath lived till he be old, but virtues.  His thoughts have a high aim, though their dwelling be in the vale of an humble heart, whence, as by an engine (that raises water to fall that it may rise the higher), he is heightened in his humility.  The adamant serves not for all seas, but this doth; for he hath, as it were, put a gird about the whole world and found all her quicksands.  He hath this hand over fortune, that her injuries, how violent or sudden soever, they do not daunt him; for whether his time call him to live or die, he can do both nobly; if to fall, his descent is breast to breast with virtue; and even then, like the sun near his set, he shows unto the world his clearest countenance.

AN INTRUDER INTO FAVOUR

Is one that builds his reputation on others’ infamy, for slander is most commonly his morning prayer.  His passions are guided by pride and followed by injustice.  An inflexible anger against some poor tutor he falsely calls a courageous constancy, and thinks the best part of gravity to consist in a ruffled forehead.  He is the most slavishly submissive, though envious to those that are in better place than himself; and knows the art of words so well that (for shrouding dishonesty under a fair pretext) he seems to preserve mud in crystal.  Like a man of a kind nature, he is the first good to himself, in the next file to his French tailor, that gives him all his perfection; for indeed, like an estridge, or bird of paradise, his feathers are more worth than his body.  If ever he do good deed (which is very seldom) his own mouth is the chronicle of it, lest it should die forgotten.  His whole body goes all upon screws, and his face is the vice that moves them.  If his patron be given to music, he opens his chops and sings, or with a wry neck falls to tuning his instrument; if that fail, he takes the height of his lord with a hawking pole.  He follows the man’s fortune, not the man, seeking thereby to increase his own.  He pretends he is most undeservedly envied, and cries out, remembering the game, chess, that a pawn before a king is most played on.  Debts he owns none but shrewd turns, and those he pays ere he be sued.  He is a flattering glass to conceal age and wrinkles.  He is mountain’s monkey that, climbing a tree and skipping from bough to bough, gives you back his face; but come once to the top, he holds his nose up into the wind and shows you his tail.  Yet all this gay glitter shows on him as if the sun shone in a puddle, for he is a small wine that will not last; and when he is falling, he goes of himself faster than misery can drive him.

A FAIR AND HAPPY MILKMAID