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Stephanus Paschasius.
To the Physicians.
Your pains are free to me; the gift is brave:
But yet not worth the hazard of a grave.
Upon Otho.
Who, Otho, sayes, lyes alwaies, doth no less;
Otho himself a Lyer doth confess.
On Quintus.
Evil to do when Quintus you do fear,
You do no good while you thus doubtfull are.
Upon Marcus.
Who, Marcus, sayes, gives words, doth do him wrong;
Marcus no words doth give, he sells his tongue.
A Staff.
What Nature hath deny'd eyes, ears, and mind;
Though senceless, is a conduct to the Blind.
On a bad Author of Fasting.
So hungerly you do for Fasting plead,
Though fasting, I am cloid when you I read.
Of Harpalus.
The Poor, his Heir, makes Harpalus; that he
Who should be so, might weep unfeinedly.