ff ROM the rich Lauinian shore
I yo u r markett come to store
muse not you I soe farr dwell,
[&] hither come my warres to sell;
Such is they Sacred hunger of gold.
come to my packe! will you buy what you lacke:
what you lacke,
heare shall you haue to be sold.

you whose ffortune young denyes
grace in yo u r beloued eyes;
thou thy loues, vowes, or deserts
nought p re uaile in womans harts;
soe be yo u r palmes anointed w i th gold
come to me then! when, gentlemen, will you buy?
loue, loue, is heere to be sold.

you, whose birth obscure & base
rankes you w i th ignoble race;
hope, ambityon, hyer striues
ffor yo u r selues & ffor yo u r wiues;
well then, supply thy deffects w i th thy gold;
come for thy race, care not thou for a place, for a place,
for a place is heare to be sold.

Though thy gentry be as younge
as the fflower tha t this day spronge,
though thy ffather thee before
neuer sheild nor scuchyon bore:
canst ffind in thy [heart] for to p ar t w i th thy gold?
come to me, lad, thou shalt haue what thy dad neu er had:
heeres Heraldrye to be sold.

Hath blind ffortune hurt thy ffame,
or vnkind nature hurt thy fframe?
hart, nor mind, nor body, p ar tes,
strong p ro portion, or deserts?
well then supply thy defects w i th thy gold;
come to me then! buy thy fame; come againe! buy thy frame;
ffor both are heare to be sold.

But dull chapemen, they dispise
my rich ffairings to be wise;
they whose humors still doth scorne
truth, and trickes & toyes adorne;
If you doe come w i th Millyons of gold,
Seeke ffurther yet in my stall;
there is witt none att all,
nor honesty, to be sold.