Whose humour I nor like, nor will gainsay.

Upon a Churle that was a great usurer.

[9.]A Chuffe that scarce hath teeth to chew his meate,

Heares with deafe ears, and sees with glassy eies,

Unto his grave his path doth daily beate,

Or like a logg upon his pallett lies:

Hath not a thought of God, nor of his grace,

Speaks not a word but what intends to gaine,

Can have no pitty on the poore Mans case,

But will the hart-strings of the needy straine: