Of a pleasant Broker

A Broker that was hyr'd to sell a Farme,
Whose seat was very sound, fruitful and warm
Thinking to grace the sales man with the tale,
Said thus: Friends, Marius sets this land to sale;
But thinke not this for debt or need to sell:
For as for money he is stor'd so well,
He hath at all times ready in his chest,
And some beside, he hath at interest.
Then were the chapmen earnestly in hand,
To question of the Title of the land:
Why should one sell, say they, that lets to vse?
The Broker driuen to seeke some new excuse,
Did study first, and smyling, thus replide,
His Worships beasts, and sheepe, and Hindes there dyde;
Since which, he neuer could the place abide.
Now though in this the foolish Broker lyde,
Yet the report thereof did so much harme,
That now, poore Marius cannot sell his Farme.