Upon Sneape. Epig.

Scobble for whoredom whips his wife; and cries
He'll slit her nose; but blubb'ring, she replies,
Good sir, make no more cuts i' th' outward skin,
One slit's enough to let adultry in.

Peapes he does strut, and pick his teeth, as if
His jaws had tir'd on some large chine of beef.
But nothing so: the dinner Adam had,
Was cheese full ripe with tears, with bread as sad.

Sibb, when she saw her face how hard it was,
For anger spat on thee, her looking-glass:
But weep not, crystal; for the same was meant
Not unto thee, but that thou didst present.

Long locks of late our zealot Peason wears,
Not for to hide his high and mighty ears;
No, but because he would not have it seen
That stubble stands where once large ears have been.

Sound teeth has Lucy, pure as pearl, and small,
With mellow lips, and luscious therewithal.

Skoles stinks so deadly, that his breeches loath
His dampish buttocks furthermore to clothe;
Cloy'd they are up with arse; but hope, one blast
Will whirl about, and blow them thence at last.