Must write a verse as smooth and calm as cream, In which there is no torrent, nor scarce stream.

2 Her. Have you any more on't.

5

Fact. No, I could never arrive but to this remnant. 1 Her. Pity! would you had had the whole piece for a pattern to all poetry.

Print. How might we do to see your poet? did he undertake this journey, I pray you, to the moon on foot?

1 Her. Why do you ask?

Print. Because one of our greatest poets (I know not how good a one) went to Edinburgh on foot, and came back; marry, he has been restive, they say, ever since; for we have had nothing from him: he has set out nothing, I am sure.

1 Her. Like enough, perhaps he has not all in ; when he has all in, he will set out, I warrant you, at least those from whom he had it: it is the very same party that has been in the moon now.

Print. Indeed! has he been there since? belike he rid thither then?

Fact. Yes, post, upon the poet's horse, for a wager. 1 Her. No, I assure you, he rather flew upon the

5 Must write a verse, &c.] I have been amused with a little piece of malice by Theobald. Opposite this passage, he has written on the margin of his copy, (the 8vo. of 1715,*) "Woman's Poet, his soft versification, Mr. P-." And in the "Discoveries," where the couplet recurs, he has again set a mark on it. Poor Theobald was probably much comforted by this private hit, hoc opertum, hoc ridere suum; and Pope, perhaps, would have been disturbed if he had known it.

6 Because one of our greatest poets, I know not how good a one, went to Edinburgh on foot.] He here means himself, having walked to Scotland, on purpose to visit Drummond of Hawthornden, in the year 1619. WHAL.

By an oversight, which I have but now discovered, Theobald's copy is said to be the folio one, vol. iii. p. 341.

wings of his muse. There are in all but three ways of going thither: one is Endymion's way, by rapture in sleep, or a dream. The other Menippus's way, by wing, which the poet took. The third, old Empedocles's way; who, when he leaped into Etna, 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 coal-pit: our poet met him, and talk'd with him.

Chro. In what language, good sir?

2 Her. Only by signs and gestures, for they have no articulate voices there, but certain motions to music all the discourse there is harmony.

Fact. A fine lunatic language, in faith; how do their lawyers then?

2 Her. They are Pythagoreans, all dumb as fishes, for they have no controversies to exercise themselves in.

Fact. How do they live then?

I Her. On the dew of the moon, like gras-hoppers, and confer with the doppers.'

Fact. Have you doppers?

2 Her. A world of doppers! but they are there as lunatic persons, walkers only: that have leave only to hum and ha, not daring to prophesy, or start up upon stools to raise doctrine.

I Her. The brethren of the Rosie Cross have their college within a mile of the moon; a castle in the air that runs upon wheels with a winged lanthorn

Print. I have seen it in print.

2 Her. All the phantastical creatures you can think of are there.

Fact. 'Tis to be hoped there are women there, then.

With the doppers,] i. e. with the Anabaptists, who were in ill repute at this time. See the Staple of News.

I Her. And zealous women, that will outgroan the groaning wives of Edinburgh.

Fact. And lovers as phantastic as ours.

2 Her. But none that will hang themselves for love, or eat candles ends, or drink to their mistresses eyes, till their own bid them good night, as the sublunary lovers do.

Fact. No, sir?

2 Her. No, some few you shall have, that sigh or whistle themselves away; and those are presently hung up by the heels like meteors, with squibs in their tails, to give the wiser sort warning.

Print. Excellent!

Fact. Are there no self-lovers there?

2 Her. There were; but they are all dead of late for want of tailors.

Fact. 'Slight, what luck is that! we could have spared them a colony from hence.

2 Her. I think some two or three of them live yet, but they are turn'd moon-calves by this.

I

Print. O, ay, moon-calves! what monster is that, pray you?

2 Her. Monster! none at all, a very familiar thing,

like our fool here on earth.

I Her. The ladies there play with them instead of little dogs.

Fact. Then there are ladies?

2 Her. And knights and squires.

Fact. And servants and coaches?

I Her. Yes, but the coaches are much o' the nature of the ladies, for they go only with wind.

Chro. Pretty, like China waggons.

Fact. Have they any places of meeting with their coaches, and taking the fresh open air, and then covert when they please, as in our Hyde-park or so?

2 Her. Above all the Hyde-parks in Christendom, far more hidden and private; they do all in clouds

there: they walk in the clouds, they sit in the clouds, they lie in the clouds, they ride and tumble in the clouds, their very coaches are clouds.

Print. But have they no carmen to meet and break their coaches?

2 Her. Alas, carmen! they will over a carman there, as he will do a child here: you shall have a coachman with cheeks like a trumpeter, and a wind in his mouth, blow him afore him as far as he can see him; or skir over him with his bats wings, a mile and a half, ere he can steer his wry neck to look where he is.

Fact. And they have their New Wells too, and physical waters, I hope, to visit, all time of year?

1 Her. Your Tunbridge, or the Spaw itself are mere puddle to them when the pleasant months of the year come, they all flock to certain broken islands which are called there the Isles of Delight.

Fact. By clouds still?

I Her. What else! their boats are clouds too.

2 Her. Or in a mist; the mists are ordinary in the moon; a man that owes money there, needs no other protection; only buy a mist, and walk in't, he is never discerned; a matter of a baubee does it.

8

1 Her. Only one island they have, is call'd the isle of the Epicones, because there under one article both kinds are signified, for they are fashioned 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 moon-shine, and stab with their poniards; you do not know the delight of the Epicones in moon-shine.

2 Her. And when they have tasted the springs of pleasure enough, and bill'd, and kist, and are ready

8 Not heads,] i. e. closely shorn, or polled.

to come away; the shees only lay certain eggs, (for they are never with child there,) and of those eggs are disclosed a race of creatures like men, but are indeed a sort of fowl, in part covered with feathers, (they call them Volatees,) that hop from island to island; you shall see a covey of them, if you please, presently.

I Her. Yes, faith, 'tis time to exercise their eyes, for their ears begin to be weary.

2 Her. Then know we do not move these wings so soon On which our poet mounted to the moon, Menippus like, but all 'twixt it and us,

Thus clears and helps to the presentment, thus.

Enter the Volatees for the ANTIMASQUE, and DANCE.

After which

2 Her. We have all this while (though the muses' heralds) adventured to tell your majesty no news; for hitherto we have moved rather to your delight, than your belief. But now be pleased to expect a more noble discovery worthy of your ear, as the object will be your eye: a race of your own, formed, animated, lightened and heightened by you, who rapt above the moon far in speculation of your virtues, have remained there intranced certain hours, with wonder of the piety, wisdom, majesty reflected by you on them, from the divine light, to which only you are less. These, by how much higher they have been carried from earth, to contemplate your greatness, have now conceived the more haste, and hope, in this their return home to approach your goodness; and led by that excellent likeness of yourself, the truth, imitating Procritus's endeavour, that all their motions be formed to the music of your peace, and have their ends in your favour, which alone is able