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Not one of her five Husbands could be found, She laid 'em fafely up in Holy Ground. With these she made a shift to pass her Youth; Such was this good Wife's Constancy, and Truth. She Travell’d far, pass'd many a rapid Stream, Thrice saw the Reliques of Jerusalem. Rome and the Catacombs she knew full well, Strange things of Cologne and its Kings cou'd tell; Spain she had travellid o'er from End to End, And good St. James was very much her Friend. Of various Haps and Perils by the way,

[fay. Much had the known, and yet much more wou'd Upon an ambling Pad at ease se fat, Gingling the Bitt, and Nack'd her Pace to chat: A steeple Hat fhe wore upon her Head, Whose ample Brims were like a Buckler spread; O’er her large Hips a Mantle fairly wrought ; Before, her Kerchiff to a Point was brought:

Like a rank Rider, pointed Spurs she wore:
Of Jests she had an unexhausted store.
Her Talk did notably Love's Art advance,
For she had practis'd long that Old, New Dance.

The Plowman.

A Plowman follow'd, who had still at hand Loads of Manure t'enrich the grateful Land ; An able, strong, laborious Man was he, Who liv'd with all in perfect Charity. He serv'd God faithfully, nor hoarded Pelf, But lov'd his Neighbour equal with himself. Hard would he work, and freely would he give, And oft for God's fake did the Poor relieve. In Dealing just, with Losses not dismay'd ; In every kind his Tythes he duly pay'd. In a short Coat he rode without a Sleeve. There was beside a Miller, and a Reeve,

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A Sumner, and a Pardon-monger too,
A Steward, and my self, were all the Crew.

The Miller.

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The Miller, hardy as his own Mill-ftones, With brawny Flesh large Sinews and strong Bones. His Strength to all the Town was known too well; In Wrestling still he bore away the Bell. Short-shoulder'd, knotty as a stubborn Oak, Hard to be bent, and harder to be broke. Not one, so far as he, could pitch a Bar, Or lift a Weight, or swing it in the Air. He'd running, force a Door with his hard Head; His Beard like any Fox's Tail was red, But straight, and even as a Gardiner's Spade. Just at the end of his huge Nofe, he had A large black Wart, on that a tuft of Hairs Red, as the Bristles of an old Sow's Ears:

His Nostrils, like a Furnace, black and wide;
A Sword and Buckler hanging on his Side.
A Babbler, with a gormandyzing Throat;
As Letcherous as a Monkey or a Goat.
Corn he could steal, the fame Corn thrice he tolid;
And yet, they say, he had a Thumb of Gold:
His Coat was white, on Bag-pipes he could play,
And with that Musick brought us on our way.

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The Manciple.
A Steward of the Temple next must come,
A Pattern for all Caterers in Town:
The Price of every thing each Market had
He knew, and nicely pick'd the Good from Bad:
Sometimes he went on Trust, and fometimes Paid,
Yet none could 'over-reach him in his Trade.
Some wonder much how an unletter'd Man,
Of such low, fordid Education, can

(Who.

(Who is but one to more than three times ten)
O’er-reach so many grave, wise, learned Men?
A practis'd Lawyer all things understands,
Th’Affairs of half the Nation pass their Hands.
We praise unjustly, partially condemn,
As they Cheat others, others Cozen them,
By various Methods all Professions live;
By Their wise Management He learn’d to thrive
In Life's long course such diff'rent Ways we run,
Some to undo, but most to be undone.

The Reve, or Steward.

The Reve, a little, slender, cholrick thing, His Face Mayod close, and not a Hair on Chin: His Locks above his Ears, an Inch at least, And dock'd before, like any begging Priest: His active Legs were very long and lean, Strait as a Staff, no Calf was to be seen.

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