Dwell there; but oh what refuge canst thou win,
Parchd in the Court, and in the Country frozen?
Shall cities built of both extreames bee chosen?
Can dung, and Garlick, bee a Perfume? Or can
A Scorpion and Torpedo cure a man?
Cities are worst of all three, of all three
(O knottie Ridle) each is worst equallie.
Cities are Sepulchres, they who dwell there
Are karkases, as if no such there were.
And Courtes, Are Theaters, where som̅e men plaie
Princes, some slaues; all to one end, and of one claie
The Countrie is a Desart, where no good
Gaind, as Habitts, not borne, is vnderstood.
There Men become beasts, and prone to mere evills
In Citties blocks, and in a lewd Court Deuills.
As in the first Chaos confusedlie
Each Elements Qualities, were in the other three;
So pride, Lust, Couetise, being seuerall,
To thes three places, yet all are in all;
And mingled thus their Issue incestuous,
Falshood is Denizend, Vertue barbarous.
Lett no man saie there, Vertues flintie wall
Shall lock Vice in mee: Ile doe none. But know all.
Men are Spunges, whict to powre out receaue.
Who know false plaie, rather then loose deceaue.
For in best vnderstandinges Sin began̅;
Angells sind first, then Deuells, and then Man.
Only perchance Beasts sin nott; wretched wee
Are Beasts in all, but white Integritie.
I thinke, if men, which in those places liue,
Durst looke for themselues, and themselues retriue
They would like Strangers, greet them selues; seeinge than
Vtopian youth growne old Italian.
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