Thus overcome of that he seemed to conquer, he became a slave to his own fortunes. Laden with much misery, utter mischief seized upon him. He fell in love with another, a wedded Lady. Then with a fourth, named VITULLIA. And so far was he imparadised in her beauty (She not recomforting him) that he fell from Love to Passion, so to Distraction, then to Admiration [_wonderment_] and Contemplation, lastly to Madness. Thus did he _act_ the Tragical scenes, who only penned the Comical: became, if not as brutish as ACTÆON, as furious as ORLANDO. Of whose Humours and Passions, I had rather you should read them, than I act them! In the end, by one, or rather by all, he was recovered. A Voice did mad him; and a Song did recure him! Four in one sent him out of this world; and one with four redeemed him to the world. To whose unusual strains in Music, and emphatical emphasis in Love; I will leave you to turn over a new leaf! This only I will end with: Who, of Love should better write, Than he that Love learns to indite? [Illustration] To the mighty, learned, and ancient Potentate, QUISQUIS, Emperor of +, King of Great and Little A., Prince of B. C. and D., &c.; ALIQUIS wisheth the much increase of true subjects, free from Passion, spleen, and melancholy; and endued with virtue, wisdom, and magnanimity. Or to the Reader. [Illustration] _An Epistle to the Reader! Why! that must have his Forehead or first entrance like a Courtier, fair-spoken and full of expectation; his Middle or centre like your citizen's warehouse, beautified with enticing vanities, though the true riches consist of bald commodities; his_ Rendezvous _or conclusion like the lawyer's case, able to pocket up any matter; but let good words be your best evidence! In the General or foundation, he must be like Paul's Church, resolved to let every Knight and Gull travel upon him: yet his Particulars or lineaments may be Royal as the Exchange, with ascending steps, promising new but costly devices and fashions. It must have Teeth like a Satyr, Eyes like a critic; and yet may your Tongue speak false Latin, like your panders and bawds of poetry. Your Genius and Species should march in battle array with our politicians: yet your Genius ought to live with an honest soul indeed._ _It should be like the never-too-well-read_ Arcadia, _where the Prose and Verse, Matter and Words, are like his_ [SIDNEY'S] _Mistress's eyes! one still excelling another, and without corrival! or to come home to the vulgar's element, like friendly SHAKE-SPEARE's_ Tragedies, _where the Comedian rides, when the Tragedian stands on tiptoe. Faith, it should please all, like Prince_ HAMLET! _But, in sadness, then it were to be feared, he would run mad. In sooth, I will not be moonsick, to please! nor out of my wits, though I displease all! What? Poet! are you in Passion, or out of Love? This is as strange as true!_