FIRST HERALD

News, news, news. New as the night they are born in; Excellent news! Price, Coxcomb! what price, but the price of your ears? As if any man used to pay for any thing here. A fine youth! This is a finer youth! There he speaks reason to you sir. Nay Gentlemen, be at peace one with another; we have enough for you all three, if you dare take upon trust. From the Moon, ours sir. By Moonshine, a nearer way I take it. Sir, you are lost I assure you; for ours came to you neither by the way of Cornelius Agrippa, nor Cornelius Drible. No Philosophers fantasy. Or brother of the Rosy crosses intilligence, no forced way, but by the neat and clean power of Poetry, Who after a world of these curious uncertainties, hath em ployed thither a servant of hers in search of truth: who has been there— In person. Do not trouble your faith then, for if that bush of thorns should prove a goodly Grove of Oaks; in what case were you, and your expectation. O! you have and old Wife belike, or your venerable Jerkin there, make much of'hem: Our relation I tell you still is news. Of a new World, In the Orb of the Moon. With navigable Seas, and Rivers. With Havens in't, Castles, and Port-towns! Hundreds, and Weapontakes! Forests, Parks, Coney-ground, Meadow-pasture, what not? The Ladies there, play with them instead of little Dogs. Yes, but the Coaches are much o'the nature of the Ladies, for they go only with wind. See, what is that this music brings, And is so carried in the air about? Would you could hear on, though. Truly I have not asked him that. How? may we beseech you? Pity! would you had had the whole piece for a pattern to all Poetry. Why do you ask? Like enough, perhaps he has not all in, when he has all in, he he will set out (I warrant you) at least those from whom he had it, it is the very same party that has been i'th Moon now. No I assure you, he rather flew upon the wings of his Muse. There are in all but three ways of going thither; one is Endymions way, by rapture in sleep, or a dream. The other Minipus his way, by wing, which the Poet took. The the third, old Empedocles way; who when he leapt into Aetna, having a dry sear body, and light, the smoke took him and whift him up into the Moon, where he lives yet waving up and down Like a feather, all soot and embers coming out of that coalpit; our Poet met him, and talked with him. O'th dew o'th Moon Like Grasshoppers, and confer with the Doppers. The brothers of the Rosy-cross have their College within a mile o'the Moon; a Castle i'th air that runs upon wheels with a winged lanthorn— And zealous women, that will out-grone, the groaning wives of Edinburgh. Your Tunbridge, or the Spaw it self are mere puddle to'em: When the pleasant months o'the year come, they all flock to certain broken Islands which are called there, the Isles of delight: What else? Their Boats are clouds too. Only one Island they have, is called the Isle of the Epecaenes, because there under one Article both kinds are signified, for they are fa shioned alike, male and female the same, not heads and broad hats, short doublets, and long points; neither do they ever untruss for distinction, but laugh and lie down in Moonshine, and stab with their poigniards; you do not know the delight of the Epicaenes in Moonshine. Yes faith, 'tis time to exercise their eyes, for their ears begin to be weary. That he has, I should think the worse of his Verse else.