iars he is like a
plague, whom they dare scarce come nigh for fear of infection; he is a
monument ruined by those which raised him, he spends the day with a _hei
mihi! vae miserum!_ and the night with a _nullis est medicabilis herbis._

HENRY PARROT [?].

_In 1626--year of the death of Francis Bacon--appeared "Cures for the
Itch; Characters, Epigrams, Epitaphs by H. P." with the motto "Scalpat
qui Tangitur." H. P. was read by Philip Bliss into Henry Parrot, who
published a collection of epigrams in 1613, as "Laquei Ridiculosi, or
Springes for Woodcocks." The Characters in this little volume are of a
Ballad Maker, a Tapster, a Drunkard, a Rectified Young Man, a Young
Novice's New Younger Wife, a Common Fiddler, a Broker, a Jovial Good
Fellow, a Humourist, a Malapert Young Upstart, a Scold, a Good Wife, and
a Self-Conceited Parcel-Witted Old Dotard._

A SCOLD

Is a much more heard of, than least desired to be seen or known,
she-kind of serpent; the venomed sting of whose poisonous tongue, worse
than the biting of a scorpion, proves more infectious far than can be
cured. She's of all other creatures most untameablest, and covets more
the last word in scolding than doth a combater the last stroke for
victory. She loudest lifts it standing at her door, bidding, with
exclamation, flat defiance to any one says black's her eye. She dares
appear before any justice, nor is least daunted with the sight of
constable, nor at worst threatenings of a cucking-stool. There's nothing
mads or moves her more to outrage than but the very naming of a wisp, or
if you sing or whistle when she is scolding. If any in the interim
chance to come within her reach, twenty to one she scratcheth him by the
face; or do but offer to hold her hands, she'll presently begin to cry
out murder. There's nothing pacifies her but a cup of sack, which taking
in full measure of digestion, she presently forgets all wrongs that's
done her, and thereupon falls straight a-weeping. Do but entreat her
with fair words, or flatter her, she then confesseth all her
imperfections, and lays the guilt upon her maid. Her manner is to talk
much in her sleep, what wrongs she hath endured of that rogue her
husband, whose hap may be in time to die a martyr; and so I leave them.

A GOOD WIFE

Is a world of happiness, that brings with it a kingdom in conceit, and
makes a perfect adjunct in society; she's such a comfort as exceeds
content, and proves so precious as