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Satira .1a.
Awaie thou Changling, motley Humorist. [f. 8]
Leave mee, and in thy standing woodden Chest
Consorted with these fewe Bookes, lett mee lye
In prison, and heere bee coffin'd when I dye.
Heere are Gods Conduits, grave Diuines, and heere
Natures Secretarie, the Philosopher.
And iollie-States-Men, wch teach how to tie
The Sinewes of a Citties mistique-Bodie.
Heere gathering-Cronocliers, and by them stand
Giddie fantastique Poets of each land.
Shall I leave all this constant Companie
And follow headlong, wild, vncertaine Thee?
First sweare by thy best love in earnest,
(If thou which lovest all, can'st love anie best,)
Thou wilt not leave mee in the Middle-Street,
Thoughe some more spruce Companion thou doe* meete,
Not, thoughe a Captaine doe come in thy waie,
Bright parcell-guilt with fortie dead-Mens paie;
Nor thoughe a briske-perfum'd-pert-Courtier
Deigne with a nodd thy Courtesie to answer;
Nor come a Veluett-Iustice with a long
Great Trayne of blewe-Coates twelve, or thirteene* strong,
Shalt thou grinne, and faune on him, or prepare
A speech to court his bewtious Sonne, and Heire.
For better or worse, take mee, or leave mee;
To take, and leave mee is Adulterie.

[CW: Oh]