MELA

MY brother gone to exile and I here, So near the Empress Court, the Court of shame, Where mischiefs hourly breed; how strange seems this, I have a will to follow, yet I want My wills performance; not that I am sick, Wanting, or limbs, or liberty; which begets More strange imaginations, yet all I can, Comes short to guess inscrutable meaning That thus detains me here, in vain, in vain The more I strive my senses I confound, Then give it over, salute thy mother earth, And rest, rest while thy poor distracted mind Upon the wings of thought takes flight and fly Fly to the Island of Cor yra there, Learn the souls comfort sweet Philosophy, What infinite good it's to contemplate heaven, For to that end the life of man is given. Would, villain what art thou. Slave, rather dispatch me then torment m sou With thy envenomed scoffs against that that is Most rare, most excellent. Oh slave, Not I, I yield my body mercenary slave To lust and lucre, no, though mines of gold She could give oftener then those who is looks Women take pride in, to bewitch men's souls; First partch't to Cinders, against the burning Zone, Be buried quick all torments possible, (Stretched on the Tenters of invention) I gladly would (most willingly) endure Ever thy soul killing proffers enters here. Pish, for my death, ther's too much man in me To fear so sleight a scratch; let it come, I will no budge a foot; strike fair and home, 'Tis better die then live to live unjust, Slave to unfounded Sea of woman's lust. Believe me Sir ther's no such thing in me Worthy your least Encomium. As I am slow, To friendships confidence (as 'tis requisite For every one, and yet once entered in Affect stability, judge you the same, A man that truly sensative well knows, Virtue to be but merely adjective; Wanting that sovereign sweetness which directs The mind to honest Actions; and therefore, As friendship joins with virtue; truly is, The lover of love; each true friends property, By that true blessing, sundry, wills connexion Our h arts as hands unite, dilate affection, That enlarge length, orbicular may spread And never find end. You mine. The fools of the time; how are we bound to heaven Exempt the bondage of these Palace Rats, These, whose delights are last provocatives. Glorious slave. — Aside. Impious Lechers. — Aside. 'Twas to preserve them for a wicked life, But since these accomplices are gone that are Not worth least memory; behold this book, Set my deer friend, and I will read to thee Of that high Majesty puissant Ens, From whom we have our being, life, and soul, Which should dull flinty inconsiderate man, When with black deeds 'ith miry bog of sin, Beast Like he wallows; considers right, Thinks on his present state (whence came and must) Then on that terrible Thunderer that sees, His actions kick at heaven; he then no more Would dare t'offend his Maker, but with tear , Lament his souls pollution, which does give Matter, by which men's souls immortal live, But through and unfrequented heaviness I am prevented. How's this, my friend departed, I alone, I know not what to think, it's very strange, He thus unwak'd would leave me; sure he strived, Yet I so fast, that he no doubt was loath To break my rest; it's so, and some chief cause Which I might well dispense with drew him hence. I'll to his father's house, there certain find Or hear of him. Exit. How's this? Save him divine assistance, For he's lost; mistake not I'm thy friend I fully comprehend, By that distemper lately in your blood. 'Twas music's sweetest concord to my soul, To hear with what a cold performance Th'act was wrested from you, happy prevention, How Like a doubtful battle it hath made The victory more joyful; which had else, Had you replenished those soul-killing sweets, No means for safety then, but fallen you must, A prey to slaughter, or a slave to lust. But since with heavens prevention you are free, Fly Room ; the impious maladies she breeds, Experience tells, are hooks to catch at souls. Therefore to be avoided, ther's no trust To trust to stay, where such infection reigns. Who is at all times one; in that right way Man ought to be, being circumvolved mong those, That by the Plummets of licentious will Measure their virtues; it's impossible. The scholar, He, in whom there does consist Honest conditions, and within whose heart Ther's many virtues make their residence, Though with night watchings at his study site, Wasting his vital spirits (not unlike His burning Tapor) to illuminate Others the way that leads to the direct, From superficial to essential joy, Even he, ill company corrupts, directs To the indirect; so that some one vice Robs him of all his virtue: The Soldier That magnanimous resolution, He that leaves nothing unattempted May tend to the honour of his country, Ill company poisons with self conceit, Cankers with envy; till on the rack of Haute ambition stretched, Like stubble set On fire he prove a flame. And therefore to prevent us, gainst all ill against Wisdom commands our absence, truly knows, Man at the best, his power to do is little His state obnoxious, at the best most brittle. There let their impudence, For glassy glories of Monorcall state Engender sin with sin, flatter their Hope's, While our souls fixed on contemplation Make for the I'll of Corce, (come my deer Friend there on the Tyrhen shore we'll practice Men sole perfection to be heavenly wise.