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My variable Sir; Ith' name of Heaven, What makes your falsehood here where fame intends Her triumphs all of Truth? her Trumpet she Hath chosen new and clean, lest it should taint Her breath; Thou art so useless to the World That thou art impudent, when thou dost share What is most cheap, and common unto all The Air and Light; I do beseech thee my Fine, false Artificer, hide both thy faces (For thou art double every where) steal hence And I'll take care, thou shalt no more be missed Than shadows are at night. Proceed, Proceed, make up your History. you have cunningly observed This is a pleasant new Philosophy: These Lectures would Subdue a numerous sect, Wertenberg thou to preach To young soft Courtesans, unpractised heirs Of over practised Usurers, silken And fine feathered gallants, whose easy ears Still open to delights, and shut at truths: But Fate takes not so little care of those For whom it does preserve the Elements: That what is chief within us should be quite Depraved, as we were only born to aim At trifles here, Like children in their first Estate of using legs, to run at sighed Of bubbles, and to leap at noise of bells. Thou art so read in humane appetites That were the Devil licenced to assume A body, thou mightest be his Cook, yet know If you endeavour it, you may persuade Your self, there are some few amongst men That as our making is erect, look up To face the Stars, and fancy nobler Hope's Than you allow, not downward hang their heads Like Beasts to meditate on earth, on abject things Beneath their feet. It's possible 'Lesse you steal in amongst them to disturb Their peace, disguised in a Canonic weed, Nor are these such, that by their reasons strict And rigid discipline, must fright nice Court Philosophers from their belief, such as impute A tyrannous intent to heavenly powers, And that their tyranny alone did point At men, as if the Fawn and Kid were made To frisk and caper out their time, and it Were sin in us to dance, the Nightingale To sing her tragic tales of love, and we To recreate our selves with Groans, as if All perfumes for the Tiger were ordained Cause he excels in scent: colours, and gaudy tinctures for The Eastern birds, while all our ornament Are russet robes, Like melancholy Monks. It is confessed; There are some sullen Clerks that love To injure and to scant themselves, yet you May find a few whose wisdoms merit greater sway That will allow us pleasures above our cares, Yet these we must not compass with our gilded, But every Act be squared by virtues rule. Your eyes encounter him As you would make great use of's visit here. Bellerophon? Thou that the offspring art of Heaven, Most timely, and by Inspiration sure, Thou comest to help me to despise and scorn These Airy mimic Apparitions, which This cosening Prophet would present as great Examples for succeeding times to imitate. The Knight Adventurer that you intend To raise, must then adventure far, and make His valour captivate, surer and soon As his lamenting Ladies looks, I'll not Be taken else. Thou Imposture to some dark Region steal The light is killing, cause it does reveal Thy thin disguise, I'th dark thou never wilt fade, For dismal plants still prosper in the shade; Thou art a shadow, and observe how all Vain shadows to our eyes stretch and grow tall, Just when the Sun declines to bring in night, So thou dost thrive in darkness, waste in light.