In-Text |
& poenas, & lachrimas mundi? What a madnes is it for men, to dote vpon their golden fetters, their guilded prison, their painted dungeon, for euery man to bee his owne Suff•nus, and like Narcissus, to bee enamored of Earth, of Dust, of Slime, of our Bodies, of rottennesse, and Corruption? When the silliest Bird that flyes, is not content with a cage of Ivorie. |
& poenas, & Tears mundi? What a madness is it for men, to dote upon their golden fetters, their Guilded prison, their painted dungeon, for every man to be his own Suff•nus, and like Narcissus, to be enamored of Earth, of Dust, of Slime, of our Bodies, of rottenness, and Corruption? When the silliest Bird that flies, is not content with a cage of Ivory. |
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