_Desire._ I thought so too, and made him my first venture But found him in a young Lords ear so busie, So like a smiling showr pouring his soul In at his portals, his face in a thousand figures Catching the vain mind of the men: I pull'd him, But still he hung like birdlime; spoke unto him, His answer still was, By the Lord, sweet Lord, And By my soul, thou master-piece of honor; Nothing could stave him off: he has heard your flood's gone; And on decaying things he seldom smiles, Sir. _Anth._ Then here I break up state, and free my followers, Putting my fortune now to _Time_, and _Justice_: Go seek new masters now; for _Anthropos_ Neglected by his friends, must seek new fortunes. _Desire_, to _Avarice_ I here commend thee, Where thou may'st live at full bent of thy wishes: And _Vain Delight_, thou feeder of my follies With light fantastickness, be thou in favour. To leave thee, _Bountie_, my most worthie servant, Troubles me more then m[ine] own misery; But we must part: go plant thy self, my best friend, In honorable hearts that truely know thee, And there live ever like thy self, a virtue: But leave this place, and seek the Countrey, For Law, and lust, like fire lick all up here. Now none but _Poverty_ must follow me, Despis'd patch'd _Poverty_; and we two married, Will seek _Simplicity_, _Content_ and _Peace_ out. _Enter Poverty._ And live with them in exile. How uncall'd on My true friend comes! _Poverty._ Here, hold thee, _Anthropos_, Thou art almost arm'd at rest; put this on, A penitential robe, to purge thy pleasures: Off with that vanitie. _Anth._ Here, _Vain Delight_, And with this all my part, to thee again Of thee I freely render. _Pov._ Take this staff now, And be more constant to your steps hereafter: The staff is _Staidness of affections_. Away you painted flyes, that with mans summet Take life and heat buzzing about his blossoms; When growing full, ye turn to Caterpillers, Gnawing the root that gave you life. Fly shadows. [_Exeunt desire and delight._ Now to _Content_ I'll give thee, _Anthropos_, To _Rest_ and _Peace_: no vanitie dwells there; _Desire_ [nor] _Pleasur[e]_, to delude thy mind more; No _Flatteries_ smooth-fil'd tongue shall poison thee.