griefs to this are jolly,
Naught so fierce as melancholy.
I'll not change life with any king,
I ravisht am: can the world bring
More joy, than still to laugh and smile,
In pleasant toys time to beguile?
Do not, O do not trouble me,
So sweet content I feel and see.
All my joys to this are folly,
None so divine as melancholy.
I'll change my state with any wretch,
Thou canst from gaol or dunghill fetch;
My pain's past cure, another hell,
I may not in this torment dwell!
Now desperate I hate my life,
Lend me a halter or a knife;
All my griefs to this are jolly,
Naught so damn'd as melancholy.

DEMOCRITUS JUNIOR TO THE READER.

Gentle reader, I presume thou wilt be very inquisitive to know what antic
or personate actor this is, that so insolently intrudes upon this common
theatre, to the world's view, arrogating another man's name; whence he is,
why he doth it, and what he hath to say; although, as [7]he said, _Primum
si noluero, non respondebo, quis coacturus est_? I am a free man born, and
may choose whether I will tell; who can compel me? If I be urged, I will as
readily reply as that Egyptian in [8]Plutarch, when a curious fellow would
needs know what he had in his basket, _Quum vides velatam, quid inquiris in
rem absconditam_? It was therefore covered, because he should not know what
was in it. Seek not after that which is hid; if the contents please thee,
[9]"and be for thy use, suppose the Man in the Moon, or whom thou wilt to
be the author;" I would not willingly be known. Yet in some sort to give
thee satisfaction, which is more than I need, I will show a reason, both of
this usurped name, title, and subject. And first of the name of Democritus;
lest any man, by reason of it, should be deceived, expecting a pasquil, a
satire, some ridiculous treatise (as I myself should have done), some
prodigious tenet, or paradox of the earth's motion, of infinite worlds, _in
infinito vacuo, ex fortuita atomorum collisione_, in an infinite waste, so
caused by an accidental collision of motes in the sun, all which Democritus
held, Epicurus and their master Lucippus of old maintained, and are lately
revived by Copernicus, Brunus, and some others. Besides, it hath been
always an ordinary custom, as [10]Gellius observes, "for later writers and
impostors, to broach many absurd an