PHILOLOGUS, _For one_.

At London Printed by Richarde Bradocke dwellinge in Aldermanburie,
a little aboue the Conduict. Anno. 1581. 4. Black-letter.



THE PROLOGUE

When whirling winds which blow with blust'ring blast,
Shall cease their course, and not the air move,
But still unstirred it doth stand, it chanceth at the last
To be infect, the truth hereof even day by day we prove;
For deep within the caves of earth of force it doth behove,
Sith that no winds do come thereto, the air out to beat,
By standing still the closed air doth breed infections great.

The stream or flood, which runneth up and down,
Is far more sweet than is the standing brook:
If long unworn you leave a cloak or gown,
Moths will it mar, unless you thereto look:
Again, if that upon a shelf you place or set a book,
And suffer it there still to stand, the worms will soon it eat:
A knife likewise, in sheath laid up, the rust will mar and fret.

The good road-horse, if still at rack he stand,
To resty jade will soon transformed be:
If long untill'd you leave a fertile land,
From streck and weed no place will be left free.