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A divine herbal together with a forrest of thorns In five sermons. ... By…A divine herball together with a forrest of thornes In five sermons. ... By…
A divine herbal together with a forrest of thorns In five sermons. ... By Tho. Adams.A divine herball together with a forrest of thornes In five sermons. ... By Tho. Adams.
London: printed by George Purslowe for John Budge, 1616London: printed by George Purslowe for Iohn Budge, 1616
Title page typeset from the transcription.
Modern spelling is a reading aid: the words are the author’s, only the spelling is modernized. Original shows the page as printed, with the transcription marks.
Your grim Usurer is a monstrous drinker: you shall seldom see him drunk at's own cost: yet he hath vowed, not to be sober till his Doomsday. ⟨p. 27⟩His brains, and his gown are lined with fox; he is ever afoxing. It may be some infernal spirit hath put love-powder in his drink; for he dotes upon the devil extremely. Let him take heed; he shall one day drink his own obligations and they will choke him.
Your grimme Vsurer is a monstrous drinker: you shall seldome see him drunke at's owne cost: yet he hath vow'd, not to be sober til his Doomesdaye. ⟨p. 27⟩His braines, and his gowne are lin'd with foxe; hee is euer afoxing. It may be some infernall spirit hath put loue-pouder in his drinke; for hee dotes vpon the deuill extremely. Let him take heed; hee shall one day drinke his owne obligations and they wil choke him.
The Rob-altar is a huge drinker. He loves, like Belshazzar, to drink only in the goblets of the Temple. Woe unto him, he carouses the wine he never sweat for, and keeps the poor Minister thirsty. The tenth sheaf is his diet: the tenth fleece (O 'tis a golden fleece he thinks) is his drink: but the wool shall choke him. Some drink down whole Churches and steeples; but the bells shall ring in their bellies.
The Rob-altar is a huge drinker. Hee loues, like Belshazzar, to drinke only in the goblets of the Temple. Wo vnto him, he carowses the wine he neuer swet for, and keeps the poore Minister thirsty. The tenth sheafe is his dyet: the tenth fleece (O 'tis a golden fleece he thinkes) is his drinke: but the wooll shall choke him. Some drinke downe whole Churches and steeples; but the bells shall ring in their bellies.