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TEN distinct Squares here seen
apart,

Are joyn'd in one by Cutter's art.
i. Old Democritus under a tree,
Sits on a stone with book on knee;
About him hang there many fea-
tures,

Of Cats, Dogs and such like crea-
tures,

Of which he makes anatomy,
The seat of black choler to see.
Over his head appears the skie,
And Sacurn Lord of melancholy.

i. To th' left a landscape of Jeal-
ousie,

Presents itself unto thine eye.
A Kingfisher, a Swan, an Hern,

6. Beneath them kneeling on his
knee,

A superstitious man you see:
He fasts, prays, on his Idol fixt,
Tormented hope and fear betwixt:
For hell perhaps be takes more pain,
Then thou dost Heaven itself to
gain.

Alas poor soul, I pitie thee,
What stars incline thee so to be?

madman

rage

7. But see the

downright With furious looks, a ghastly sight Naked in chains bound dothhe lie And roars amain he knows not why i Observe him; for as in a glass, Thine angry portraiture it was. Two fighting,cocks you may dis- His picture keep ,still in thy pr«cern,

Two roaring Bulls each other hic,
To assaulc concerning venery.
Symboles are these ; I say no more,
Conceive the rest by that's afore.

3. The next of solitariness,
A portraiture doth well express,

By sleeping dog, cat: Buck and Do, Of those black fumes which make

¥¥ /," • ' .''

sence j

Twixt him and thee, ther's no difference.

8. 9. Borage and Hellebor fill two
scenes,

Soveraign plants to purge the veins
Of melancholy, and chear the heart,

Hares, Conies in the desart go
Bats, Owls the shady bowers over,
In melancholy darkness hover.
Mark well: If't be not as't should be,
Blame the bad Cutter, and not me.

4. Ith' under column there doth

stand

Inamorato with folded hand j
Down hangs his head, terse and po-
lite,

Some dittie sure he doth indite.
His lute and books about him lie,
As symptoms of his vanity.
If this do not enough discloae,
To paint him, take thyself by th'
nose.

5. Hypocondriacus leans on his arm,
Winde in his side doth him much

harm,

And troubles him full sore, God
knows,

Much pain he hath and many woes.
About him pots and glasses lie,
Newly brought from's Apothecary.
This Saturn's aspects signifie,
You see them portraid in the skie.

* These verses refer to the old folio Frontispiece, which was divided into ten compartments that are here severally explained. Though it was impossible to reduce that Frontispiece to an octavo size for this edition, the lines are too curious to be lost. The author's portrait mentioned in the 10th stanza is copied in our xvth page.

it smart: To clear the brain of misty fogs, Which dull our senaes, and Soul clogs.

The best medicine that ere God made

For this malady, if well assaid.

t0. Now last of all to fill a place,
Presented is the Author's face;
And in that habit which hii wears,
His image to the world appears.
His minde no art can well express,
That by his writings you may giies*.
It was not pride, nor yet vain glory,
(Though others do it commonly)
Made him do this i if you must
know,

The Printer would needs have it so.
Then do not frown or scoffe at it,
Deride not, or detract a whit.
For surely as thou dost by him,
He will do the same again.
Then look upon't, behold and see,
As thou lik'st it, so it likes thee.
And I for it will stand in view,
Thine to command, Reader, adiew.

Democritus Junior ad Librum suum.

VADE liber, qualis, non ausum dicere, fcelix,
Te nisi fbellcem fecerit Alma dies.
Vade tamen quocunque lubet, quascunque per oras,

Et Genium Domini fee imitere tui.
I blandas inter Charites, rnystamque salata

Musarum quemvis, si tibi lector erit.
Rura colas, urbem, subeasve palatia regum,

Sabmisse, placide, te sine dente geras.
Nobilis, aut si quis te forte inspexerit heros,

Da te morigerum, perlegat usque lubet. Est quod Nobilitas, est quod desideret heros,

Gratior haec forsan charta placere potest.
Si quis morosus Cato, tetricusque Senator,

Hunc etiam librum forte videre velit,
Sive uiagistratus, turn te reverenter habeto;

Sed nullus; muscas non capiunt Aquilae.
Non vacat his tempus fugitivum impendere nugis,

Nec tales cupio; par mihi lector erit.
Si matrona gravis casu diverterit istue,

Illustris domina, aut te Comitissa legat:
Est quod displiceat, placeat quod forsitan illis,

Ingerere his noli te modo, pande tamen.
At si virgo tuas dignabitur inch ta chartas
Tangere, sive schedis haereat ilia tuis:
Da modo te facilem, & quaedam folia esse memento

Conveniant oculis quae magis apta suis.
Si generosa ancilla tuos aut alma puella

Visura est ludos, annue, pande lubens.
Die utinam nunc ipse meus* (nam diligit istas)

In praesens esset conspiciendus herus.
Ignotus notusve mihi de genie togata

Sive aget in ludis, pulpita sive colet,
Sive in Lycoeo, & nugas evolverit istas,
Si quasdain mendas viderit inspiciens,
Da veniam Authori, dices; nam plurima vellet

Expungi, quae jam displicuisse sciat.
Sive Melancholicus quisquam, seu blandus Amator,

Aulicus aut Civis, seu bene comptus Eques
Hue appellat, age & tutd te crede legenti,

Multa istic forsan non male nata legct.
Quod fugiat, caveat, quodque amplaxabitur, ista
Pagina fortassis promere multa potest.

* Haec comic* dicta cave ne male capias.

At si quis Medicus coram te sistet, amice

Fac circumspectè, & te sine labe geras : Inveniet namque ipse meis quoque plurima scriptis,

Non leve subsidium quæ sibi forsan erunt.
Si quis Causidicus chartas impingat in istas,

Nil mihi vobiscum, pessima turba vale;
Sit nisi vir bonus, & juris sine fraude peritus,

Tum legat, & forsan doctior inde siet.
Şi quis cordatus, facilis, lectorque benignus

Huc oculos vertat, quæ velit ipse legat;
Candidus ignoscet, metuas nil, pande libenter,

Offensus mendis non erit ille tuis,
Laudabit nonnulla. Venit si Rhetor ineptus,

Limata & tersa, & qui benè cocta petit,
Claude citus librum; nulla hic nisi ferrea verba,

Offendent stomachum quæ minùs apta suum. At si quis non eximius de plebe poeta,

Annue ; namque istic plurima ficta leget. Nos sumus è numero, nullus mihi spirat Apollo,

Grandiloquus Vates quilibet esse nequit. Si Criticus Lector, tumidus Censorque molestus,

Zoilus & Momus, si rabiosa cohors :
Ringe, freme, & noli tum pandere, turba malignis

Si occurrat sannis invidiosa suis :
Fac fugias; si nulla tibi sit copia eundi,

Contemnes, tacitè scommata quæque feres.
Frendeat, allatret, vacuas gannitibus auras

Impleat, haud cures; his placuisse nefas. Verum age si forsan divertat purior hospes,

Cuique sales, ludi, displiceantque joci,
Objiciatque tibi sordes, lasciváque: dices,

Lasciva est Domino & Musa jocosa tuo,
Nec lasciva tamen, si pensitet omne; sed esto;

Sit lasciva licet pagina, vita proba est,
Barbarus, indoctusque rudis spectator in istam

Si messem intrudat, fuste fugabis eum,
Fungum pelle procul (jubeo) nam quid mihi fungo

Conveniunt stomacho non minus ista suo.
Sed nec pelle tamen; læto omnes accipe vultu,

Quos, quas, vel quales, inde vel unde viros.
Gratus erit quicunque venit, gratissimus hospes

Quisquis erit, facilis difficilisque mihi.
Nam si culpârit, quædam culpâsse juvabit,

Culpando faciet me meliora sequi.
Sed si laudârit, neque laudibus efferar ullis,

Sit satis hisce malis opposuisse bonum.
Hæc sunt quæ nostro placuit mandare libello,

Et quæ dimittens dicere jussit Herus.

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