needs not Satan, and the world will come hereafter.  He leaves repentance for grey hairs, and performs it in being covetous.  He is mingled with the vices of the age as the fashion and custom, with which he longs to be acquainted, and sins to better his understanding.  He conceives his youth as the season of his lust, and the hour wherein he ought to be bad; and because he would not lose his time, spends it.  He distastes religion as a sad thing, and is six years elder for a thought of heaven.  He scorns and fears, and yet hopes for old age, but dare not imagine it with wrinkles.  He loves and hates with the same inflammation, and when the heat is over is cool alike to friends and enemies.  His friendship is seldom so steadfast, but that lust, drink, or anger may overturn it.  He offers you his blood to-day in kindness, and is ready to take yours to-morrow.  He does seldom any thing which he wishes not to do again, and is only wise after a misfortune.  He suffers much for his knowledge, and a great deal of folly it is makes him a wise man.  He is free from many vices, by being not grown to the performance, and is only more virtuous out of weakness.  Every action is his danger, and every man his ambush.  He is a ship without pilot or tackling, and only good fortune may steer him.  If he scape this age, he has scaped a tempest, and may live to be a man.

AN OLD COLLEGE BUTLER

Is none of the worst students in the house, for he keeps the set hours at his book more duly than any.  His authority is great over men’s good names, which he charges many times with shrewd aspersions, which they hardly wipe off without payment. [His box and counters prove him to be a man of reckoning, yet] he is stricter in his accounts than a usurer, and delivers not a farthing without writing.  He doubles the pains of Gallobelgicus[32], for his books go out once a quarter, and they are much in the same nature, brief notes and sums of affairs, and are out of request as soon.  His comings in are like a taylor’s, from the shreds of bread, [the] chippings and remnants of a broken crust; excepting his vails from the barrel, which poor folks buy for their hogs but drink themselves.  He divides an halfpenny loaf with more subtlety than Keckerman[33], and sub-divides the a prima ortum so nicely, that a stomach of great capacity can hardly apprehend it.  He is a very sober man, considering his manifold temptations of drink and strangers; and if he be overseen, ’tis within his own liberties, and no man ought to take exception.  He is never so well pleased with his place as when a gentleman is beholden to him for showing him the buttery, whom he greets with a cup of single beer and sliced manchet[34], and tells him it is the fashion of the college.  He domineers over freshmen when they first come to the hatch, and puzzles them with strange language of cues and cees, and some broken Latin which he has learned at his bin.  His faculties extraordinary are the warming of a pair of cards, and telling out a dozen of counters for post and pair, and no man is more methodical in these businesses.  Thus he spends his age till the tap of it is run out, and then a fresh one is set abroach.