At his firſt appearing in the _Charterhouſe_, an Olive coloured Veluet ſuit owned him, which ſince became mous-colour, A pair of unſkour’d ſtockings-gules, One indifferent ſhooe, his band of _Edenburgh_, and cuffs of _London_, both ſtrangers to his ſhirt, a white feather in a hat that had bin ſod, one onely cloak for the rain, which yet he made ſerve him for all weathers: A Barren-half-acre of Face, amidſt whereof an eminent Noſe advanced himſelf, like the new Mount at _Wanſted_, overlooking his Beard, and all the wilde Country thereabouts; He was tended enough, but not well; for they were certain dumb creeping Followers, yet they made way for their Maſter, the Laird. At the firſt preſentment his Breeches were his Sumpter, and his Packets, Trunks, Cloak-bags, Portmanteau’s and all; He then grew a Knight-wright, and there is extant of his ware at 100_l._ 150_l._ and 200_l._ price. Immediately after this, he ſhifteth his ſuit, ſo did his Whore, and to a Bear-baiting they went, whither I followed them not, but _Tom. Thorney_ did. [Decoration] 2. _The true Character of a =Dunce=._ He hath a Soule drownd in a lump of Fleſh, or in a piece of Earth that _Prometheus_ put not half his proportion of Fire into, a thing that hath neither edge of deſire, nor feeling of affection in it, The moſt dangerous creature for confirming an _Atheiſt_, who would ſtraight ſwear, his ſoul were nothing but the bare temperature of his body: He ſleeps as he goes, and his thoughts ſeldom reach an inch further than his eyes; The moſt part of the faculties of his ſoul lye Fallow, or are like the reſtive Jades that no ſpur can drive forwards towards the purſuite of any worthy deſign; one of the moſt unprofitable of all Gods creatures, being as he is, a thing put clean beſides his right uſe, made fitt for the cart & the flail, and by miſchance Entangled amongſt books and papers, a man cannot tel poſſible what he is now good for, ſave to move up and down and fill room, or to ſerve as _Animatum Inſtrumentum_ for others to work withal in baſe Imployments, or to be a foyl for better witts, or to ſerve (as They ſay monſters do) to ſet out the variety of nature, and Ornament of the Univerſe, He is meer nothing of himſelf, neither eates, nor drinkes, nor goes, nor ſpits but by imitation, for al which, he hath ſet forms & faſhions, which he never varies, but ſticks to, with the like plodding conſtancy that a milhors follows his trace, both the muſes and the graces are his hard Miſtriſſes though he daily Invocate them, though he ſacrifize _Hecatombs_, they ſtil look a ſquint, you ſhall note him oft (beſide his dull eye and louting head, and a certain clammie benum’d pace) by a fair diſplai’d beard, a Nightcap and a gown, whoſe very wrincles proclaim him the true genius of formality, but of al others, his diſcours and compoſitions beſt ſpeak him, both of them are much of one ſtuf & faſhion, he ſpeaks juſt what his books or laſt company ſaid