You're all but toys
For girls and boys
To play withal, at best deceitful joys.
She lives for ever; ye are transitory,
Her honour is unstained; but your glory
Is mere deceit -
A painted bait,
Hung out for such as sit at Folly's gate.
True peace, content, and joy on her attend;
You, on the contrary, your forces bend
To blear men's eyes
With fopperies,
Which fools embrace, but wiser men despise.
About this time my father, resolving to sell his estate, and having
reserved for his own use such parts of his household goods as he
thought fit, not willing to take upon himself the trouble of selling
the rest, gave them unto me; whereupon I went down to Crowell, and
having before given notice there and thereabouts that I intended a
public sale of them, I sold them, and thereby put some money into my
pocket. Yet I sold such things only as I judged useful, leaving the
pictures and armour, of which there was some store there, unsold.
Not long after this my father sent for me to come to him at London
about some business, which, when I came there, I understood was to
join with him in the sale of his estate, which the purchaser
required for his own satisfaction and safety, I being then the next
heir to it in law.
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