A friend of _Durus_ comming on a day [5.] To visite him, finding the doores say nay; Being lock'd fast up, first knocks, and then doth pause, As Lord have mercy on's[F. 115] had bin the cause; But missing it, he ask't a neighbour by When the rich _Durus_' (doors) were lock'd and why? He said it was a Custome growne of late At diner time to lock your great man's gate, _Durus_' his poor friend admir'd & thought the door Was not for State lock'd up, but 'gainst the poore, And thence departing empty of good cheere, Said, Lord have mercy on us is not there. [Footnote 115: Houses visited by the plague were marked by a cross chalked on the door, and also the words, "Lord have mercy on us."] A Man there was, who liv'd a merry life, [72.] Till in the end he tooke him to a Wife; One that no image was (for shee could speake) And now and then her husbands costrell[F. 116] breake: So fierce she was and furious, as in summe, She was an arrant Devill of her tongue. This drove the poore man to a discontent, And oft, and many times did he repent That e're hee chang'd his former quiet state, But 'las, repentance then did come too late. No cure he finde to cure this maladie, But makes a vertue of necessitie, The common cure for care to every man, "A potte of nappy Ale:" where he began To fortifie his braine 'gainst all should come, 'Mongst which the clamour of his wives loud tongue This habit graffed[F. 117] in him grew so strong, That when he was from Ale, an houre seem'd long, So well hee lik'd th' profession: on a Time Having staid long at pot (for rule nor line Limits no drunkard) even from Morne to Night, He hasted home apace, by the Moone-light: Where as he went, what phantasies were bred, I doe not know, in his distempered head, But a strange Ghost appear'd, and forc'd him stay, With which perplext, hee thus began to say: "Good Spirit, if thou be, I need no charme, For well I know, thou wilt not doe mee harme; And if the Devill; sure mee thou shoulds't not hurt, I wed't thy _Sister_, and am plagued for't." The Spirit, well approving what he said, Dissolv'd to ayre, and quickly vanished. [Footnote 116: Head.] [Footnote 117: Grafted.] [17.] A Taylor sent his bill to a Lawyer for money; the Lawyer bid the Boy tell his Master, that he was not running away (being very busie at that time). The Boy comes again, and tells him he must needs have his money. Did'st tell him, I was not running away? Yes Sir, but he bid me tell you, that _though you were not running away, yet he was_.