A _Covetous Ambassador_.
A Certain _Ambassador_ that was still Pester’d with Drums and Trumpets
every where upon the Way of his Embassy, was willing to save his Money,
and so had them put off still with This Answer: That his Excellency
was in Deep Mourning for his Mother, and in no Humour for Musique.
The Drums and Trumpets were at least as much Troubled at the Tydings,
as the _Ambassador_ Himself. This News came to the Ear of a Person of
Honour, who presently made him a Condoling Visit. Pray, my Lord (says
the Nobleman) how long may your Mother have been Dead? Why, says the
_Ambassador_, ’tis now a Matter of _Forty Years_; which Expounded the
Riddle, and put an End to That Controversy.
The MORAL.
_There is a Certain Agreeable Way of Fooling betwixt Jest and Earnest,
that carries both Pleasure and Profit along with it; for it saves a Man’s
Money One way, and his Credit Another._