Without black-velvet-britches, what is man?
I will my skill in button-holes display,
And brag how oft I shift me ev'ry day.
Shall I wear cloaths, in awkward England made?
And sweat in cloth, to help the woollen trade?
In French embroid'ry and in Flanders lace
I'll spend the income of a treasurer's place.
Deard's bill for baubles shall to thousands mount,
And I'd out-di'mond ev'n the Di'mond Count.
I would convince the world by taudry cloa's,