With an Use of Consolation in his rump. Then came a Turky cold, which in its life Had a fine taile, just like the Citizens wife. But now by’r leave, and worship too, for hark ye, Here comes the Venson put in Paste by _Starky_: Which once set downe, there at the little hole Immediately in whips the Parsons soule. He saw his Stomacks anchor, and believ’d That now his belly should not be deceiv’d. How he leanes ore the cheere toward his first mover! While his hot zeale doth make his mouth run over. This Pastie had Brethren too, like to the Mayor, Three Christmas, or Minc’d pies, all very faire. Methought they had this Motto _Though they flirt us_, _And preach us down, Sub pondere crescit virtus._ Apple tarts, Fooles, and strong cheese to keep downe The steaming vapours from the Parsons crown. Canary too, and Claret eke also, Which made the tips of their eares and noses glow. Up now they rise, and walk to their severall chairs, When loe, the Priest uncovers both his eares. [Sidenote: Grace before meat.] Most gracious Shepherd of the Brethren all, Thou saidst that we should eate, before the Fall; Then was the world but simple, for they knew Not either how to bake, or how to brew. But happily we fell, and then the Vine Did _Noah_ plant, and all the Priests drank wine. Truly we cannot but rejoyce to see Thy gifts dispenc’d with such equality. To us th’ast given wide throats, and teeth to eate; To the women, knowledge how to dress our meat. Make us devoutly constant in thy cup, And grant us strength when we shall cease to sup, To beare away thy creatures on our feet, And not be seen to tumble in the street. We are thy sheep, O let us feed, feed on, Till we become as fat as any Brawne. Then let’s fall to, and eate up all the cheer; Straight _So be it_ he cryes, and calls for beer.