Another powtes, and scoules, and hangs the lip,
Even as the banckrout[224] credit of her husband
Cannot equal her with honors liverie.
What does she care if, for to deck her brave,
Hee's carryed from the Gate-house to his grave!
Another in a rayling pulppet key,
Drawes through her nose the accent of her voice,
And in the presence of her good-man Goate
Cries 'fye, now fye, uppon these wicked men
That use such beastly and inhumane talke,'
When being in private all her studies warne
To make him enter into _Capricorn_.
Another as she goes treads a _Canarie_[225] pace,
Jets it so fine and minces so demure
As mistris Bride upon her marriage day;
Her heels are Corke, her body Atlas,
Her Beautie bought, her soule an Atomus.
Another, with a spleene-devoured face,
Her eies as hollow as Anatomy,[226]
Her tung more venome then a Serpents sting,
Which when it wagges within her chap-faln jawes
Is noise more horrid then a cry of hounds
With open mouths pursuing of their game.
Wants she but ritch attire or costly dyet,
With her the Devill can nere live in quiet.
Pages:
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354