Some prank up their bodies, and have their mindes full of execrable vices. Some trot about to bear false witnesse, and say any thing for money; and though Judges know of it, yet for a bribe they wink at it, and suffer false Contracts to prevail against Equity. Women are all day a dressing, to pleasure other men abroad, and go like sluts at home, not caring to please their own husbands whom they should. Seeing men are so fickle, so sottish, so intemperate, why should not I laugh at those, to whom folly seems wisdom, will not be cured, and perceive it not?

It grew late, Hyppocrates left him, and no sooner was he come away, but all the Citizens came about flocking, to know how he liked him. He told them in brief, that notwithstanding those small neglects of his attire, body, diet, the world had not a wiser, a more learned, a more honest man, and they were much deceived to say that he was mad.

Thus Democritus esteemed of the World in his time, and this was the cause of his laughter: and good cause he had. Olim jure quidem, nunc plus Democrite ride; Quin rides? vita hæc nunc mage ridicula est. Democritus did well to laugh of old, Good cause he had, but now much more, This life of ours is more ridiculous Then that of his, or long before.

Never so much cause of laughter, as now, never so many fools and mad men. Tis not one Democritus wil serve turn to laugh in these days, we have now need of a Democritus to laugh at Democritus, one Jester to flout at another, one fool to flear at another. A great Stentorian Democritus, as big as that Rhodian Colossus.

For now, as Salisburiensis said in his time, totus mundus histrionem agit, the whole world playes the fool; we have a new theatre, a new scene, a new comedie of errors, a new company of personate actors, volupiæ sacra (as Calcagninus wittily feigns in his Apologs) are celebrated all the world over, where all the actors were mad men and fools, and every hour changed habits, or took that which came next. He that was a Marriner to day, is an Apothecary to morrow; a smith one while, a philosopher another, in his volupiæ ludis; a king now with his crown, robes, scepter, attendants; by and by drove a loaded asse before him like a carter, &c.

If Democritus were alive now, he should see strange alterations, a new company of counterfeit vizards, whiflers, Cumane asses, maskers, mummers, painted Puppets, outsides, phantastick shadows, guls, monsters, giddy-heads, butter-flies. And so many of them are indeed (if all be true that I have read) For when Jupiter & Juno’s wedding was solemnized of old, the gods were all invited to the feast, and many noble men besides: Amongst the rest came Crysalus a Persian prince, bravely attended, rich in golden attires, in gay robes, with a majesticall presence, but otherwise an asse.

The gods seeing him come in such pomp and state, rose up to give him place, ex habitu hominem metientes; but Jupiter perceiving what he was, a light, phantastick, idle fellow, turned him and his proud followers into butter-flies: and so they continue still (for ought I know to the contrary) roving about in pied-coats, and are called Chrysalides by the wiser sort of men: that is, golden outsides, drones, flies, and things of no worth. Multitudes of such, &c. ——ubique invenies Stultos avaros, sycophantas prodigos.

Many additions, much increase of madnesse, folly, vanity, should Democritus observe, were he now to travel, or could get leave of Pluto to come see fashions, as Charon did in Lucian to visit our cities of Moronia Pia, and Moronia Fælix, sure I think he would break the rim of his belly with laughing. Si foret in terris rideret Democritus, seu, &c. A satyrical Roman in his time, thought all vice, folly, and madnesse were all at full sea, Omne in præcipiti vitium stetit. ——

Josephus the historian taxeth his countrey-men Jews for bragging of their vices, publishing their follies, and that they did contend amongst themselves, who should be most notorious in villanies; but we flow higher in madnesse, far beyond them, Mox daturi progeniem vitiosiorem, and the latter end (you know whose oracle it is) is like to be worst.

Tis not to be denied, the world alters every day, Ruunt urbes, regna transferuntur, &c. variantur habitus, leges innovantur, as Petrarch observes, we change language, habits, laws, customs, manners, but not vices, not diseases, not the symptoms of folly and madnesse, they are still the same. And as a River we see, keeps the like name and place, but not water, and yet ever runs, Labitur & labetur in omne volubilis ævum; Our times and persons alter, vices are the same, and ever will be; look how Nightingals sang of old, Cocks crowed, Kine lowed, Sheep bleated, Sparrows chirped, Dogs barked, so they do still; we keep our madnesse still, play the fools still, nec dum finitus Orestes, we are of the same humors and inclinations as our predecessors were, you shall finde us all alike, much at one, we and our sons, Et nati natorum, & qui nascuntur ab illis, And so shall our posterity continue to the last. But to speak of times present.