not order his affairs so well at first as he might have done; but the first vintage made him up again; for he sold what wine he would; and what kept up his chin was the expectation of a reversion; the credit of which brought him more than was left him; for his brother taking a pelt at him, devised the estate to I know not whose bastard:  He flies far that flies his relations.  Besides, this brother of his had whisperers about him, that were back-friends to the other:  but he shall never do right that is quick of belief, especially in matter of business; and yet ’tis true, he’ll be counted wise while he lives, to whom the thing whatever it be is given, nor he that ought to have had it.  He was without doubt, one of fortune’s sons; lead in his hand would turn to gold, and without trouble too, where there are not rubbs in the way.  And how many years think ye he liv’d?  Seventy-odd:  but he was as hard as horn, bore his age well, and as black as a crow.

“I knew him some years ago an oilman, and to his last a good womans man; but withal such a miser, that (so help me Hercules) I think he left not a dogg in his house.  He was also a great whore-master, and a jack of all trades; nor do I condemn him for’t, for this was the only secret he kept to himself and carry’d with him.”

Thus Phileros and Gammedes, as followeth:  “Ye talk of what concerns neither Heaven nor Earth, when in the mean time no man regards what makes all victuals so scarce:  I could not (so help me Hercules) get a mouthful of bread to day:  and how?  The drought continues:  For my part, I have not fill’d my belly this twelve-month:  A plague on these clerks of the market, the baker and they juggle together; take no notice of me, I’ll take no notice of thee; which make the poorer sort labour for nothing, while those greater jaw-bones make festival every day.  Oh that we had those lyons I now find here, when I first came out of Asia, that had been to live:  The inner part of Sicily had the like of them, but they so handled the goblins, even Jupiter bore them no good-will.  I remember Safinius, when I was a boy, he liv’d by the old arch; you’d have taken him for pepper-corn rather than a man; where-ever he went the earth parched under him; yet he was honest at bottom; one might depend on him; a friend to his friend, and whom you might boldly trust in the dark.  But how did he behave himself on the bench?  He toss’d every one like a ball; made no starch’d speeches, but downright, as he were, doing himself what he would persuade others:  But in the market his noise was like a trumpet, without sweating or spueing.  I fancy he had somewhat, I know not what, of the Asian humour:  then so ready to return a salute, and call every one by his name, as if he had been one of us.  In his time corn was as common as loam; you might have bought more bread for half a farthing, than any two could eat; but now the eye of an ox will cost you twice as much:  Alas! alas! we are every day worse and worse,