Can they make plays there, that shall fit Write wittier dances, quainter fhows, 765 Or fight with more ingenious blows? Or does the man i' th' moon look big, Shew in his gait, or face, more tricks 770 775 780 They are but idle dreams and fancies, Or why wolves raise a hubbub at her, You may know something more remote. At this, deep Sidrophel look'd wise, Of sapience, and began to bluster ; To ftir his wit up, thus he said: Art has no mortal enemies, Next ignorance, but owls and geese ; ; 785 790 795 Those confecrated geefe, in orders, That to the capitol were warders, With noise alone beat off the Gaul; That will not credit their own fouls, Or any science understand, Beyond the reach of eye or hand; 800 805 810 815 Were the stars only made to light Robbers and burglarers by night? To wait on drunkards, thieves, gold-finders, Or giving one another pledges Of matrimony under hedges? Is there a constellation there That was not born and bred 820 825 up here? 830 And therefore cannot be to learn In any inferior concern? Were they not, during all their lives, Most of 'em pirates, whores, and thieves? And is it like they have not still, Does not derive its houfe from earth? And therefore probably must know What is, and hath been done below, Who made the balance, or whence came Did not we here the Argo rig, Make Berenice's periwig? Whofe liv'ry does the coachman wear? And therefore, as they came from hence, Plato deny'd the world can be Govern'd without geometry ; 835 840 845 850 For money b'ing the common scale Of things by measure, weight, and tale, |