Is like dust in the highway, that flies in the face of those that raise it. He that is ungrateful is all things that are amiss. He is like the devil, that seeks the destruction of those most of all that do him the best service, or an unhealthful sinner that receives pleasure and returns nothing but diseases. He receives obligations from all that he can, but they presently become void and of none effect, for good offices fare with him like death, from which there is no return. His ill-nature is like an ill stomach, that turns its nourishment into bad humours. He should be a man of very great civilities, for he receives all that he can, but never parts with any. He is like a barren soil; plant what you will on him, it will never grow, nor anything but thorns and thistles, that came in with the curse. His mother died in child-bed of him, for he is descended of the generation of vipers in which the dam always eats off the sire's head, and the young ones their way through her belly. He is like a horse in a pasture, that eats up the grass and dungs it in requital. He puts the benefits he receives from others and his own faults together in that end of the sack which he carries behind his back. His ill-nature, like a contagious disease, infects others that are of themselves good, who, observing his ingratitude, become less inclined to do good than otherwise they would be; and as the sweetest wine, if ill-preserved, becomes the sourest vinegar, so the greatest endearments with him turn to the bitterest injuries. He has an admirable art of forgetfulness, and no sooner receives a kindness but he owns it by prescription and claims from time out of mind. All his acknowledgments appear before his ends are served, but never after, and, like Occasion, grow very thick before but bare behind. He is like a river, that runs away from the spring that feeds it and undermines the banks that support it; or like vice and sin, that destroy those that are most addicted to it; or the hangman, that breaks the necks of those whom he gets his living by, and whips those that find him employment, and brands his masters that set him on work. He pleads the Act of Oblivion for all the good deeds that are done him, and pardons himself for the evil returns he makes. He never looks backward (like a right statesman), and things that are past are all one with him as if they had never been; and as witches, they say, hurt those only from whom they can get something and have a hank upon, he no sooner receives a benefit but he converts it to the injury of that person who conferred it on him. It fares with persons as with families, that think better of themselves the farther they are off their first raisers. A SQUIRE OF DAMES