A WATERMAN

Is one that hath learnt to speak well of himself, for always he names himself “the first man.”  If he had betaken himself to some richer trade, he could not have choosed but done well; for in this, though a mean one, he is still plying it, and putting himself forward.  He is evermore telling strange news, most commonly lies.  If he be a sculler, ask him if he be married:  he’ll equivocate, and swear he’s a single man.  Little trust is to be given to him, for he thinks that day he does best when he fetches most men over.  His daily labour teaches him the art of dissembling, for, like a fellow that rides to the pillory, he goes not that way he looks.  He keeps such a bawling at Westminster, that, if the lawyers were not acquainted with it, an order would be taken with him.  When he is upon the water he is fair company; when he comes ashore he mutinies, and, contrary to all other trades, is most surly to gentlemen when they tender payment.  The playhouses only keep him sober, and, as it doth many other gallants, make him an afternoon’s man.  London Bridge is the most terrible eyesore to him that can be.  And, to conclude, nothing but a great press makes him fly from the river, nor anything but a great frost can teach him any good manners.

A REVEREND JUDGE

Is one that desires to have his greatness only measured by his goodness.  His care is to appear such to the people as he would have them be, and to be himself such as he appears; for virtue cannot seem one thing and be another.  He knows that the hill of greatness yields a most delightful prospect; but, withal, that it is most subject to lightning and thunder, and that the people, as in ancient tragedies, sit and censure the actions of those in authority.  He squares his own, therefore, that they may far be above their pity.  He wishes fewer laws, so they were better observed; and for those are mulctuary, he understands their institution not to be like briers or springs, to catch everything they lay hold of, but, like sea-marks on our dangerous Goodwin, to avoid the shipwreck of innocent passengers.  He hates to wrong any man:  neither hope nor despair of preferment can draw him to such an exigent.  He thinks himself most honourably seated when he gives mercy the upper hand.  He rather strives to purchase good name than land; and of all rich stuffs forbidden by the statute, loathes to have his followers wear their clothes cut out of bribes and extortions.  If his Prince call him to higher place, there he delivers his mind plainly and freely, knowing for truth there is no place wherein dissembling ought to have less credit than in a prince’s council.  Thus honour keeps peace with him to the grave, and doth not (as with many) there forsake him, and go back with the heralds; but fairly sits over him, and broods out of his memory many right excellent commonwealth’s-men.