Phlegma

HEERE Phlegme sits coughing on a Marble seate,
As Citie-vsurers before their dore:
Of Bodie grosse, not through excesse of meate,
But of a Dropsie, he had got of yore:
His slothfull hand, in's bosome still he keepes,
Drinkes, spits, or nodding, in the Chimney sleepes.

Beneath his feete, there doth a Tortoise crall,
For slowest pace, Sloth's Hieroglyphick here,
For Phlegmatique, hates Labour most of all,
As by his course araiment, may appeare:
Nor is he better furnished I find,
With Science, or the virtues of the mind.