A Scholer newly entred marriage life Following his studdie did offend his wife, Because when she his company expected, By bookish busines she was still neglected: Comming unto his studdy, Lord (quoth she) Can papers cause you love them more than mee: I would I were transform’d into a Booke That your affection might upon me looke, But in my wish, withall be it decreed, I would be such a Booke you love to reede, Husband (quoth she) which books form should I take, Marry (said hee) t’were best an Almanacke, The reason wherefore I doe wish thee so, Is, every yeare wee have a new you knowe. _Epigram._ Sira, come hether boy, take view of mee, My Lady I am purpos’d to goe see: What doth my feather flourish with a grace, And this same dooble sette become my face, How descent doth this doublets forme appeare (I would I had my sute in houns-ditch heere) Do not my spurs pronounce a silver sounde? Do’s not my hose circumference profounde? Sir these are well, but there is one thing ill, Your Tailour with a sheete of paper bill, Vowes heel’e be paid, and Serjeants he had feed, Which wayte your comming forth to do thy deede: Boy god-amercy let my Lady stay, Ile see no counter for her sake to day. _Much a doe about chusing a wife._ A Widdower would have a wife were old, Past charge of children to prevent expence Her chests and bagges cram’d till they crake with gold, And she unto her grave post quickly hence, But if all this were fitting to his minde, Where is his lease of life to stay behinde? A Batcheler would have wife were wise, Faire, Rich and Younge, a maiden for his bed, Not proude, nor churlish but of fautles size, A country housewife, in the Citty bred. But hees a foole and longe in vaine hath staide, He shoulde bespeake her, there’s none ready made. _The taming of a wilde Youth._ Of late a deare and loving friend of mine, That all his time a Gallant youth had bene, From mirth to melancholy did decline, Looking exeeding pale, leane, poore, and thin, I ask’d the cause he brought me through the streete, Unto his house, and there hee let me see, A woman proper, faire, wise and discreete And said behould, heer’s that hath tamed mee, Hath this (quoth I,) can such a wife do so? Lord how is he tam’d then, that hath a shrow. _A straunge sighted Traveller._