Page 211
Another to him. LETTER XL.
SIR, I pitty your good fortune, the court that followes you at your Chamber would be to me an unsupportable honour, who would not give my mornings for all the Compliments of Paris. It is the flower and prime of the day that is taken from you; it is the time of medi∣tation and Prayer which flattery intruds upon. There is no Creditour nor Sergeant that you might not deale withall better cheape then with these troublesome friends. You are un∣fortunate to be so beloved, and a man of whom so many other have use, can be of little or no use to himselfe. It is better yet to passe for a clowne, then thus to prostitute ones selfe by civilitie, and better never to sacrifice to the graces, then to make ones selfe the beast for the Sacrifice. You would perhaps intermit this course, but the time is past for that; a breach would draw upon you a warre; and you would runne the fortune of that poore Saint, who was murthered with pricks of Pen∣knives, and cut in peeces by his Schollers. You would be the object of a Rhetoricall, an Histo∣ricall & a Poeticall persecution; and the muses which now court you would grow furies, and fall a tearing you, so that you have no remedy now but to hold it out, if you looke for safety